The Power of a Name
by rebeldivaluv
Summary: An AU fic. The plot is loosely taken from the book Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers. It's Broe/Mason and very dark.
1. Chapter One

The Power of a Name

[A/N:  Okay.  I have no sense left in my head.  I'm starting another story when there's no reason to believe I'll ever get any of my old ones finished.  Anyway, this one is loosely based on the premise of the novel _Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers.  A great book, which you should all read.  Though my story won't follow it at all closely.  It's Alternate Universe, and Broe/Mason.  Most of what's different should come out in the story, but just so you know, Mimi and Chloe didn't grow up in Salem.  Oh, and I know in a lot of stories lately, Stefano has been Chloe's father.  That is most decidedly not the case with mine.  Also this story is extremely dark, so if you want something light, read something else.]_

**Chapter One**

Mimi Lockhart bustled around the living room, putting the finishing touches on her surprise.  Lighting the candles, she stepped back and surveyed her work with a smile.  The perfect candlelit dinner for two.  White tablecloth, fine crystal and china, intricately folded napkins, a vase with a single red rose, and of course the blazing fire in the hearth and the candles spread around the room.  It was perfect, even if she did say so herself.

Mimi heard the key turn in the lock and rushed into the kitchen.  She gestured Connor over to her and put her finger to her lips for silence.  Connor nodded, shaking his blond locks, normally so unruly, but tonight combed and parted perfectly. She straightened his little bow tie, wrinkling her nose at the adorable picture he made.  They heard their parents enter the living room and smiled at their astonished reactions.

"Oh!" cooed Maureen Lockhart to her husband.  "You did all this for me?  It's beautiful, David!"  She turned and laid a hand on his chest, looking up at him lovingly.

David shook his head, bewildered.  "I'd love to take credit for it, darling.  But I had nothing to do with it.  Honest."  A knowing gleam lit his eye.  "Meems!" he called loudly.  "Connor!  Where are you?"

"That's your cue, Connor," Mimi whispered, giving her brother a little shove through the swinging door and watching the scene unfold. 

"Good evening, sir, madam," Connor mumbled, as his sister had ordered him too.  He put his finger inside his collar.  It was far too tight.  Why had he let her talk him into this?  He hated when his sister's brilliant ideas caused him to make a fool of himself.  "Your reservations are under what name, please?"  He looked every bit the part of a miniature maitre'd in his black tuxedo, with the white cloth thrown over his arm.  

David and Maureen interchanged smiles.  Leave it to Meems.  They had called an hour ago from the city to say that their restaurant had lost their reservations, and they were coming home.  Only a daughter like theirs would go to this much trouble to give them a special anniversary.  "The name is Lockhart," David replied solemnly to his small son.

"Oh, right this way, sir," Connor said promptly, getting into the game despite himself.  He led them to the small table and pulled out a chair for his mother.  

"Thank you," she said, impressed, as she sat down.  However had Mimi made rambunctious Connor behave so well?  She must have bribed him with terrifying amounts of candy, but Maureen didn't mind so much.  She truly had the two most wonderful children in the world.

"Your server shall be with you shortly."  Connor breathed a sigh of relief as he got through the final piece of his part and was able to run back to the kitchen.  The second he slipped in though, his sister had pulled him into a huge bear hug.

"You were amazing, Connor," Mimi gushed.  "Just perfect.  Mom and Dad loved it."  She ruffled his hair affectionately.

Connor shoved away irritated.  "Get off me!  Okay, I did what you told me to do.  Now, can I take this stupid suit off and go play my Playstation?"  

Mimi beamed at him.  "Of course you can go.  And thanks for your help.  Mom and Dad need this."  Mimi couldn't help but notice that despite what Connor had said, he looked rather pleased with himself as he ran up the stairs to his room.  She picked up the bottle of wine, straightened her plain black dress with the white apron, and slipped through the door to the makeshift restaurant.  Her parents looked up at her and smiled.

"Good evening.  My name is Miriam, and I'll be your waitress for the evening," she recited, as she poured them glasses of wine.  "Our chef only found out she was cooking an hour ago, so might I recommend her specialty?  Spaghetti, with your choice of salad…or no salad."

Maureen laughed.  "Meems, you are too much.  Come here."  She held her arms out and embraced her daughter, tears of happiness in her eyes.  What had she ever done to deserve a daughter like Mimi?  "Thank you so much for this."

Mimi pulled away, smiling brightly.  "It's the least I could do."  She reached across and took her father's hand in hers, including him in the bond.  "You two have been the best parents in the world, and you give me and Connor the greatest example of what real love should look like."  She knew she sounded like a Hallmark commercial, but it was true.  She had seen the mess of home lives all her friends had, and she knew how rare and special her parents were.  

Mimi waited on her parents all through dinner, delighting in the little secret language they shared.  She never failed to stand in awe of how much her parents still loved each other after twenty years of marriage.  As she stumbled off to bed late that night, after cleaning up the kitchen, she whispered a silent prayer that someday, she would share that kind of bond with the man of her dreams.

~~*~~

Jason Masters sat in the middle of the crowded bar, nursing his fifth beer.  All he wanted was to wallow in his own misery, drown his sorrows in a bottle for another useless night of living.  Which is why it came as a total annoyance when some red-head in a transparent white top and black leather miniskirt sat down at the stool next to him and flashed him a flirtatious smile.

"So what are you drinking?" she asked coyly.  Jase barely gave her a glance, just twisted the bottle in his hand so she could see the label.  "Can I buy you another one?"   She leaned in towards him and rested her hand on his arm.  Her eyes widened in partly feigned interest.  "Wow!  You must work out a lot!"  

Jason rolled his eyes.  Was that the best she could do?  Why would he fall for a slut like that when he had briefly known what it was like to love and be loved by the purest, most beautiful woman in the world.  Why had she been taken from him so soon?  Grimacing, he stood up, dropping some money on the counter.  "I'll have to take a rein check on that drink."  He grinned sardonically at her angry, shocked expression; then quickly made his way out of the bar.  He needed fresh air, or he was going to be sick.

He stepped outside, feeling a blast of cold air on his face.  He looked around, missing the familiar sights and sounds of Salem.  But he couldn't go back there now.  Too many memories…of her.  She would haunt him even more than she did now.  And this was more than he could bear.  He could still almost see her face before him.  Those beautiful baby blue eyes, that sun-kissed blonde hair.  He grinned momentarily, remembering Belle's obsession with her hair.  He had been the only one who could get by with teasing her about it.

His smile died, as he recalled another image of her, lying in a hospital bed, her hair so thin and ragged as to be almost nonexistent, huge, dark circles under those pain-filled eyes.  And still she had kept that smile, that smile that had melted his heart from the first time he had seen it.  He had spent his entire lifetime loving Belle Black.  They had dated all through high school.  They had planned on getting married.  And then, that diagnosis.  The diagnosis that changed his life forever and ended hers.

He walked along the almost deserted street, pulling his collar up around his neck and shoving his hands deep in his pockets.  He thought once more of home.  He thought of the Blacks.  They had always been more his family than his own twisted parents.  He missed John and Marlena.  And Brady.  He wondered what Brady was doing now.  He and Brady had always been the best of friends, and their bond had only gotten stronger when Jason started dating Belle.  

Belle.  His sweet Isabella.  There would never be anyone like her, never anyone who could make him feel anything but this dead emptiness.  He had been allowed to glimpse heaven for just a moment, and now, there was nothing left.  Nothing but the day to day meaninglessness of life.  He was just waiting, waiting for time or his dissipated ways to carry him away to join the one woman he knew he would ever love.

~~*~~

He felt it the moment he looked into her eyes.  Obviously, she was a stunning woman, maybe the most stunning Brady had ever seen.  But it was a manipulative beauty.  From her extravagantly upswept hair to her perfect make-up all the way down to her strappy, stiletto heels, she was intent on the art of seduction.  The way she walked, the way she laughed, she might as well have stripped naked in front of them all.  Sex practically exuded from her.

But to Brady, none of this was enticing.  He had never gone in for cheap thrills with cheaper women.  He had simply dismissed her after a cursory once-over.  Until he bumped into her.  Until he saw reflected in her azure eyes the pain of a thousand deaths.  Those were the eyes of a lost child, of an innocent corrupted, of a fallen angel searching for redemption.  He managed to see all this in the few seconds it took for her to straighten away from him.  "Excuse me," he stammered, trying to understand how in that moment he had immediately felt her become his responsibility.

She smiled an empty, flirtatious smile and ran her fingers down the collar of his jacket, with practiced artlessness.  "Any time, baby," she responded seductively.  Pulling away from him, she ran her hands along her short black dress, straightening non-existent wrinkles.  She looked up at him, seeing the veiled desire in his eyes, the heavy beating of his pulse.  Men were so easy to understand.  One-track minds, all of them.  "See you around."  She threw him one more coy, meaningless smile and walked away, not needing to look behind her to know he followed her with his eyes.

Brady frowned as he watched her go.  Why couldn't he shake this feeling of intimate connection with her?  He knew those eyes would haunt his dreams forever if he didn't do something about it now.  He saw her way impeded momentarily by Lucas Roberts.  Lucas said something that made her laugh, a tinkling sound, but somehow forced and hollow.  Lucas put his arm around her waist, but she pulled away, shaking her head.  With a light caress to his face, she moved on.

Brady waited all of ten seconds before cornering Lucas.  "Who was that woman you were talking to?" he demanded.

Lucas smiled drunkenly, his usual glass of scotch clutched tightly in one hand.  "Oh, hi, Brady.  Right to the point, aren't you?" he asked loudly.  "No 'How are you, Lucas?  Nice to see you again.'  You want something, you ask.  End story."

Rolling his eyes, Brady pulled Lucas out of the crowd.  He didn't want his personal business spread all around Salem.  "Who was she, Lucas?" he asked coolly.  

Lucas laughed.  "Feeling a little lonely out in those mountains, Brady?  Needing a little female companionship?  I s'pose I could set you up, if you're willing to pay that much.  'Course Sapphire's not just any lay.  That woman knows things that will blow your mind."

Brady felt like he'd been punched in the gut.  He reeled away from Lucas, repulsed.  "She's a whore?"  He couldn't' believe it.  He'd never been so attracted, never felt so connected to any woman in his life.  And she was nothing but a common hooker.

Lucas laughed again, swaying heavily as he lost his sense of balance.  "You didn't know?  Damn, man, where have you been?  Doesn't that cabin of yours have a telephone?  She's been the talk of the town for months.  Expensive as hell, but worth every penny."  He leaned in conspiratorially, his breath almost causing Brady to vomit.  "I don't know where she learned it, man.  But she has tricks you can't even find in the Kama Sutra."  

Brady felt his urge to be sick growing by the moment.  What cruel trick of fate was this?  _See, Brady Black?  He thinks he's immune to love.  So let's throw him a nice little lesson he'll never forget.  She was a whore, a whore that had apparently been with every man in Salem.  And still, those eyes…For the first time in his life, Brady was going to follow Lucas's example.  He was going to get totally wasted._

~~*~~

She wrapped a robe around her as Philip fumbled for his wallet.  He still had a stupid grin on his face.  He didn't yet have the look of disgust—both with her and with himself—that most men got after time alone with her.  Only the most callous and the most foolish could walk away without looking back in loathing on what had gone on here.  Of course, that rarely stopped them from coming back for more.  And Philip was both callous and stupid.  Why else would he have had her escort him to that party tonight?

Everyone had known who and what she was, and she had known most of them too—at least, most of the men.  But she didn't care what people thought of her.  She had stopped caring a long time ago.  Besides, they were all hypocrites anyway.  Those men might shun her in public.  With their wives by their sides, they took the moral high ground.  But that wouldn't stop their clandestine visits.  So she had played it up.  Everyone knew she was a whore anyway.  Why try and hide it?

"Here you go," Philip said, handing her several large bills.  He was one of few who looked her in the eyes as he paid her.  That scared her.  He would start becoming possessive soon, and that was the last thing she could have.

She smiled without feeling as she accepted the money wordlessly.  After all, what was she supposed to say?  Thank you?  She went to her extravagant vanity, picked up a brush, and started combing out her thick, long, dark tresses.  She expected Philip to leave.  When he didn't, she turned to him, one eyebrow raised mockingly, "You honestly think you're ready for more?"

Philip stared at her in awe.  "How do you do it?"

Her smile froze in place.  "I've had lots of experience."  She wondered if he was one of those men who liked to delude themselves into thinking that they were really the only ones.  It was an illusion she always made sure to shatter.  This was her job.  She knew nothing else.  But if they started thinking she was emotionally attached to any of them, they had another thing coming.

Philip grimaced.  "Not that.  I mean, how do you still remain such a mystery?  I've been thinking how perfect your name is for you.  You're like a sapphire, beautiful, luminous, valuable, yet still so mysterious and cold.  You're murky at the depths."

The hair brush slammed down on the vanity.  What the hell did he think that passed for?  Was that what he thought a compliment sounded like?  She turned away from him, looking at her dead, sapphire eyes.  "Goodbye, Philip," she said, coldly dismissing him.  

Philip looked wounded, but knew better than to object.  She was known to cut off anyone who tried to push her boundaries.  "Night, Sapphire.  Same time next week?"  

She eyed him coolly.  "We'll see."  She tried to leave him in doubt.  But there wasn't any doubt.  Not really.  She needed the money, and Philip was her steadiest and best-paying customer.  She had no doubt he would like to make her his mistress.  He'd made broad hints about it.  But she always shut him out.  There was no way in hell she'd ever let one man have that much control over her again.  

Philip sighed.  He hated her when she was like this.  But all he had to do was look at her luscious figure barely concealed by her blue satin robe, and he knew he'd be back for more.  She was a goddess, and her mystery only added to her allure.  She could take him to places he'd never been, and yet still remain completely untouched and untouchable.  Knowing she was through with him, he grabbed his jacket and left.

She watched him go, despising him and all others like him with all that was left of her ravished, brutalized heart.  Did he think she cared about him?  Did he think she felt anything at all when he was inside of her?  It was a job to her.  It was all she knew how to do.  All she had ever been taught.  

She picked up her hairbrush again and started stroking her dark hair, her thoughts elsewhere.  So Sapphire was a perfect fit, was it?  Philip would never know how much she loathed that name.  After all, HE had given it to her.  But no one knew her real name.  No one ever would.  From the day her mother had died, from the day she had been brought to his house, that name had never crossed her lips.  And it never would.  It was all she had left, the only thing left unscathed and untouched by the Phoenix and all who had come after him.


	2. Chapter Two

The Power of a Name

**Chapter Two**

This wasn't how Brady Black had pictured coming to meet the girl of his dreams.  Whatever happened to the damsel in distress being locked in an ivory tower?  Instead, he was slipping into a whorehouse at six-thirty in the morning because a hooker he had bumped into once at a party had been giving him nightmares for the past two weeks.  Always the same dream, too.  He could see her eyes.  She was so afraid of something.  Then, in the distance, he heard an evil, maniacal laughter.  And then, she seemed to shrink before him into a small, frightened child with the same haunted eyes.

So here he was, entering Salem's most elite escort service, using an address he'd pried off Lucas Roberts the night before.  The office looked no different than that of a normal hotel.  A woman in her forties with a garishly painted face, large mouth, and bad dye job was behind the desk watching a small television set.  In a chair nearby, a burly, dense looking man was staring suspiciously at Brady.  The woman looked up, a false smile springing to her lips.  "May I help you, sir?"  She had, without a doubt, the most grating voice Brady had ever heard.

Brady shifted nervously, even though he reminded himself that he had nothing to be ashamed of.  He wasn't here for any of the reasons they thought he was.  "I'm here to see Sapphire," he said with surprising force.

Barb studied him with amusement.  Of course.  They were always here for Sapphire.  She wondered what this one's story was.  He was too handsome to have trouble attracting women.  Maybe he was married, but he wasn't wearing a wedding band.  Maybe he had just heard about Sapphire's special talents.  Word had certainly seemed to be spreading lately.  She glanced at the clock.  "I'm sorry, mister; but Sapphire's shift ended half an hour ago.  Perhaps one of our other girls could help you?"

"I just want to talk to her, not use her," Brady answered harshly, pushing his embarrassment aside.  He felt the eyes of Muscle Man on him and tensed.  "Can you just tell me how to reach her?"

Barb eyed the man in front of her with growing suspicion.  "What do you want to talk to her about?" she challenged.  She hoped Sapphire hadn't formed some sort of emotional attachment to this man.  The thing Barb had always respected most about her was her ability to just do her job without any of the romantic entanglements of the other girls.  

"I don't see how that's your concern."  Brady didn't trust this woman at all.  She had a shrewd, oily look about her.  He didn't think her question came from caring at all about the girl.  She was worried about her own interests.

Barb shrugged.  "Fine, but I still can't let you see her now.  If you really want to see her this badly, I'll work you into her schedule.  I believe she has an opening in three weeks.  Would you like to see her then?"  

Brady would have found the situation amusing if he wasn't so frustrated.  She was talking like she was a receptionist at a dentist's office, instead of a madame of a brothel.  "Look, I want to talk to her.  Now.  I'll pay twice her usual rate," he said desperately, knowing money was the only way to get through to a woman like this.

Barb's overlarge mouth widened in a sickening smile, as an avaricious gleam came into her eyes.  "Twice the normal rate?  And you're just going to talk to her?"  Brady nodded.  She hesitated momentarily, but her greed won out over her apprehensions.  "Let me just call up and see if she's up to it."  Brady watched her disappear into a back room.  He noticed Muscle Man was glaring at him darkly.  What the hell was his problem?  The woman returned a moment later.  "All right, mister.  You've got one hour.  And payment in advance, please."

Brady took out his wallet and threw several large bills on the desk.  "Where is she?"

Barb jerked her head to the left, as she counted out the money.  "Up the stairs.  Third floor, first door on your right.  Have fun."  She smiled sardonically.  Personally, she thought an hour of conversation with that girl would be enough to make anyone run screaming from the room.

Brady tried to put his thoughts in order as he climbed the stairs.  What exactly was he going to say to her when he saw her?  "_I'm Brady Black, and I'm here to rescue you."  Somehow he didn't think the __Star Wars approach would go over too well.  He had no idea what kind of situation he was getting into.  He knew nothing about this girl.  And yet he felt he had read her soul in her eyes.  Was that even possible?  Brady came to the door the vulgar woman downstairs had indicated and knocked hesitantly.  She opened it a second later, dressed only in a loosely wrapped blue satin robe.  He refused to let himself looked below her neck.  He needed to concentrate on her, not her body._

She met him with an empty smile.  "Come in, mister," she said quietly, pulling him along by his unbuttoned collar.  She had been a little surprised by Barb's phone call, but it was by no means the strangest request she'd ever gotten.  And Barb was right.  It was easy money.  She led him into her bedroom, watching in amusement as he studied the opulent surroundings, from the black satin sheets to the burning incense and aromatherapy candles.  Even her large mirror on the vanity made a perfect reflection of the bed.  This room was here for a purpose, and she made no attempts to hide it.

Brady still didn't have a clue what to say to her.  He tried to keep his eyes on anything but the bed.  Unfortunately, there weren't many other objects to focus on in the sparsely decorated room.  She sat down on the edge of the bed, swinging her foot listlessly and just watching to see what he would do.  Besides the bed, there was only the chair at her vanity to sit on.  He chose that.

As soon as he sat down, she went to work.  "My hands are unbuttoning your shirt," she began in a soft, throaty voice, her eyes making love to him.  "My hands are against your hot chest, and my lips are—"

"Uh, what are you doing?" Brady stopped her before she could continue the highly arousing wordplay.

She looked at him, amused by his obvious embarrassment.  "I'm talking.  That is what you wanted, isn't it?"

"No," Brady stated emphatically.  "I want to talk to you, with you.  Not sex talk.  Not anything like it.  I want to get to know you.  I want you to know me." 

She felt a wave of cold fear wash over her.  Suddenly, this didn't seem like such a good idea, not for all the money in the world.  She didn't want anyone to know her, especially not this handsome stranger in front of her.  She covered up her panic with feigned indifference.  "What do you want me to know, mister?" 

Brady frowned at her bored tone.  Then, he kicked himself.  What had he expected?  "Well, for starters, my name isn't 'mister'.  It's Brady Black."

She hid her momentary surprise.  Men didn't usually give her their last names.  Unless he was lying.  Which, she decided, he must be.  "I'll try to remember that," she drawled.  "So, Brady Black, you so lonely you have to pay people to talk to you?"

Brady laughed, a free, booming laugh, untinged with the bitterness she was used to hearing.  "I'm never lonely," he replied honestly.  "But I'm usually alone.  I have a cabin up in the mountains where I stay most of the time."  He felt the more he talked the greater his chances of getting her to let her guard down and open up to him.

She barely restrained herself from rolling her eyes.  Did he think she cared?  Did he think he had to court and woo her before he got what he was after?  He couldn't really think she didn't get his real purpose for being here.  He was a man; and men wanted one thing, and one thing only, from her.  "So what brings you to Salem?" she asked disinterestedly.

Brady looked straight into those guarded azure eyes.  "You," he said gently, watching her reaction closely.  He had decided that the only slight chance he had with her was by being entirely honest with her.  It was the one thing he was sure she was unfamiliar with.

She smiled slightly.  There, that was better.  He was finally getting to the point.  He was no different from the rest after all.  "I'm all yours," she responded softly, leaning back slightly on the bed.

Brady frowned.  This was going to be so much harder than he'd thought.  He hadn't counted on her being so cool and collected, or on his own heady desire for her.  "Not like that," he said harshly, in reaction to the unwanted effect she was having on him.  "I bumped into you at a party a few weeks ago.  I'm sure you don't remember, but I haven't been able to shake this uneasy feeling since then.  So I came back to…well, I'm not sure why.  I just know that our lives are entwined somehow."

She laughed, a mocking, hollow sound.  "There's only one way I'll ever be 'entwined' with a man, mister.  Want me to show you?" she added huskily.

He studied her intently.  "That's what you want, isn't it?  For me to use you and leave so you can write me off like every other bastard you've ever known.  But I'm not going to do that to you.  I want more for you and from you than your body."

A knot formed in the pit of her stomach.  She couldn't listen to words like that.  Words like that could inspire hope, and hope was the enemy.  It led the way to feeling, and she had spent too long learning to shut down.  Indifference was her security, her safe place.  She wasn't going to lose it now over a few naïve words from a man who knew nothing about her life.  "Sorry.  My body's the only thing for sale," she returned coldly.

"That's good, because I don't want to buy you, Sapphire," Brady replied with a soft smile.  She didn't hold back at all.  Then he frowned, staring into her eyes.  "Sapphire.  Is that your real name?"

She felt the knot tighten.  This was a man who refused to recognize her boundaries, and now he had made the most unforgivable blunder of them all.  "Why don't you figure it out?" she asked, barely reining in her temper.

Brady saw her eyes flash with emotion for the first time all night.  She was angry.  Good.  He could deal with rage better than apathy.  Obviously, he had found a sensitive issue.  He would have to pursue this, if only to keep her off balance.  "I would say not," he returned unperturbedly.  "So who gave you that name?  Or did you pick it out yourself?"

She shot off the bed, pulling the robe tighter around her.  "It's none of your damn business!" she practically screamed.  She immediately cursed herself for losing her temper.  It only seemed to encourage him more.  He was leaning forward, elbows on his knees, studying her intently.  She noticed for the first time his clear blue eyes.  They were different from any eyes she had ever seen.  They weren't lustful, or cruel, or dead.  On the contrary, they were soft and filled with pity and some emotion she didn't recognize.

"All right, Tempest," Brady said softly.  "You don't have to tell me.  I won't use that name."  He saw her eyes flash again.  This time with surprise.  "It doesn't suit you anyway.  Sapphires are beautiful, but dead and inanimate.  You're much more like a storm.  Your fury is palpable."  

She had to break away from the bewitching power of his eyes, had to stop her mind from repeating the name he had given her.  She looked up at the clock.  "Your time is up," she said in a near-whisper, sure he would sense the tremor in her voice if she spoke any louder.

Brady followed her gaze.  "I still have five minutes left," he countered, noticing how badly she was shaking.  "I frighten you.  Why?"

She refused to answer.  She refused to give him the satisfaction.  He was the one with the power.  Lying flat on her back, she had power over every man in her life, no matter what they thought.  Only one man had ever had real power over her; and when she had finally escaped him, she had sworn it would never happen again.  However sweet, however different this man seemed right now, he would eventually show his true colors.  And she didn't want him to have any power at all over her when he did.  

Brady sighed.  She wasn't going to give an inch without fighting tooth and nail.  This was one hell of a distressed damsel.  He stood up slowly.  "Okay.  You win.  For now."  He moved towards the door; and she followed at a discreet distance, as if to make sure he was really leaving.  He opened the door and then turned once more to look at her.  Anger, fear, and confusion mingled in her eyes to make her appear more vulnerable than ever.  "Come away with me," he whispered.  

She started backwards, frightened of the gentle pleading in his voice, like he was asking more for her sake than for his own.  What a crock.  "No," she said firmly and without ceremony.  It wasn't the first time she'd been asked to run away with a man.  Usually, she could laugh it off.  But this was different.  This was a man like no other.  This was a man who wouldn't be satisfied with the little she was willing to give.

Brady nodded.  He had expected that, but still he had been compelled to ask.  "Bye, Tempest.  I'll be back tomorrow," he promised, then left.  And it was her turn to watch curiously as he walked away.

~~*~~

_"Jason."  He could hear her sweet voice calling him from the meadow.  "Jason, come and catch me."  She ran laughing through the field.  The sun shone brightly on them.  The daisies raised their cheerful faces to the sky.  And there was his Belle, healthy and strong and lovely.  She ran ahead of him, a vision in white, always just out of his reach._

_"Belle, wait!" he cried, losing sight of her as the weeds around him grew taller.  Weeds?  Why were there weeds in their perfect meadow?  "Belle, I can't reach you."_

_He saw her in the distance.  Her smile was gone, and her baby blue eyes were welling with tears.  "Why didn't you take care of it, Jason?" she asked, fingering a dying rosebush._

_"I…I couldn't, Belle," he confessed, coming closer to where she knelt in the overgrown field._

_Belle looked up at him, the tears falling from her cheeks onto the ground.  "You couldn't even stay for me, could you, Jason?  You left.  You left when I needed you most."_

_He reached out for her, but she was still beyond his reach.  "I couldn't stay, Belle.  I couldn't stand seeing you like that."_

_"I didn't even get to say goodbye to you," she said sadly.  She got up, her white dress still spotless, even though she'd been kneeling in the grass.  She cast another glance around her.  "Take care of our meadow, Jase.  Get rid of the weeds."_

_He knew he was losing her again.  She'd leave him soon, and there was nothing he could do to stop her.  "I can't do it without you, Belle," he cried desperately.  "Any of it.  Live, breathe, function.  Let me come with you."  He took a step towards her; but adversely, she seemed to slip even farther away from him, even though she hadn't taken a step._

_She smiled at him.  "No, Jason.  You have to get rid of the weeds first."  She looked at him with eyes that held no trace of anger or sorrow or bitterness, only pure, unadulterated love.  "I love you, you know.  I always did."  Her smile turned wistful.  "But it's time for me to go now.  Goodbye, my beloved."  She turned and skimmed gaily across the meadow towards the light of the sun."_

_"Belle, wait!" Jason called, trying to follow her.  But the faster he ran, the further she was in the distance.  "I love you!"  Belle suddenly disappeared taking the light with her, leaving Jason in utter darkness…._

Jason smashed his pillow down on his alarm clock to dull the incessant beeping.  He groaned, covering his face with his hands.  That's why he got smashed every night, he suddenly remembered.  If he didn't, he had dreams like that one.  Where Belle was so real and vivid and alive, that he could practically swear he smelled her lilac perfume.  She overwhelmed his senses.

He forced himself to sit up.  He had to get to work.  It was his first day on the job, which was the reason behind his unnatural sobriety.  He would kill for a beer, but he knew he couldn't have one if this job was actually going to last.  He grimaced, imagining what people would say if they knew the high and mighty Jason Masters was working as a common security guard.  The Salem in-crowd would just love that.  His father had had such high hopes for him when he graduated high school.  And he and Belle had made such big plans.  But that had all changed with her illness.  At twenty-one, he felt old and used up.  

He wondered again about the Blacks.  They certainly wouldn't welcome him back with open arms, after he had run out on Belle that way.  Actually, Jason thought he might feel a little better about being such a jerk if John and Brady beat the crap out of him.  God knew he deserved it.  He had left the woman he loved when she needed him most, and for no reason other than his own cowardice.  He hadn't been able to watch his bright, sunny Isabella wither away like that anymore.

Jason ran a hand back through his tousled sandy blonde hair.  His dream was just a dream.  He was sure Belle must have died hating him.  How could she not after what he had done?  If she could send him a message from beyond the grave, it would be a slap across the face, not some gardening tip.

Well, he certainly wasn't going back to Salem for the sake of some stupid meadow.  Just because he and Belle had spent some perfect days there didn't make it his responsibility.  It was a wild field!  What kind of gardening did it need?  "Get rid of the weeds," Jason muttered dismissively, getting up to get ready for another pointless day of his meaningless life.

~~*~~

Mimi Lockhart practically floated down the hall to her locker.  Was it possible?  Only a month until graduation.  Finally!  After twelve years of working her butt off for straight As, she was going to be free!  And then, a whole year in Europe.  She could picture herself sipping espresso in an outdoor café in Rome, writing in her journal.  Maybe she'd have some sort of spiritual epiphany and write a book about it and become world famous.  She giggled at the ridiculous notion.  But hey, a girl could dream.  

If she was being honest with herself though, she'd have to admit that her favorite European fantasy was the one where she was shopping the famous Parisian boutiques and came round a corner and bumped straight into the man of her dreams.  He'd be tortured, mysterious, and handsome.  Maybe he'd turn out to be a vicomte or something.  That wasn't the important part though.  It would be love at first sight.  Their eyes would lock, and they would just know that they were going to be together forever.

She sighed as she unlocked her locker and grabbed her books for the next class.  It was, of course, absolutely ludicrous.  After all, one didn't reach the age of eighteen never having been kissed without coming to face certain realities.  She just wasn't attractive to men.  Well, except for—

"Meems!"  The object of her depressing thoughts was waving franticly as he made his way towards her.

"Hey, Kev," she mumbled, shutting her locker.  She turned to face Kevin Lambert, class treasurer, head of the chess team, the debate team, and the AV club.  And her own personal Urkel.  She'd lived next to him her whole life, and he'd been pursuing her since they'd been able to walk.  She sometimes wondered why she didn't just give in and date him.  It's not like she had any sort of reputation to protect.  She was happy being one of the faceless mass.  She had her friends and her enemies; but for the most part, she had managed to make it through high school relatively unnoticed.

"I wanted to talk to you before school this morning," the dark haired boy said, readjusting his thick, black glasses on the bridge of his nose.  "But when I got to your house, you'd already left."

Mimi barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes.  Honestly, this crush of his had stopped being cute a long time ago.  "Yeah.  I drove Connor to school this morning.  Dad was running late for work, and Mom had a doctor's appointment.  Why?  What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Well, I wanted to give you this," he said, producing a wilted red rose from behind his back.  He blushed slightly.  "It was much prettier this morning."

Mimi smiled.  It really was an adorable, if clumsy, gesture.  And who was she to be turning down flowers?  It's not like she was drowning in admirers.  She accepted the faded rose.  "Thank you, Kevin.  That's very sweet of you."

Kevin smiled at her, flashing perfect white teeth.  Despite Kevin's nerdy manners and habits, he was incredibly handsome.  More than one of Mimi's friends had formed crushes on him over the years, but he only had eyes for her.  Too bad the feeling wasn't mutual.  There just wasn't any attraction on Mimi's side.  She liked him as a friend, nothing more.

"There's something else, too," Kevin began, looking down around the direction of her knees.  She wondered what was up.  It wasn't like Kevin to be nervous around her.  "It's almost time for Prom, and I wasn't going to ask you, because you've made it clear that you don't feel that way about me.  But then I figured what the hell?  It's Senior Prom.  My last chance.  So would you like to go with me?"  He said all this very fast and not meeting her eyes.

Mimi bit her lip and looked down at the dying rose.  Why couldn't she just say yes?  She could say they could go as friends.  Kevin would respect that.  And it wasn't like anyone else was going to ask her.  But still, she couldn't form the word yes.  She couldn't do it.  "I…I'm sorry, Kev.  I can't," she said gently.

"Why not, Meems?" Kevin asked, meeting her gaze again.  She could see so clearly the hurt she had caused him reflected in his dark eyes.  "Has someone else asked you?"

Mimi shook her head vigorously.  "No, Kev.  Nothing like that.  I just…I don't want to end up hurting you, when you start thinking it means more than it does.  You're my friend.  One of my best friends.  But that's all we are, and that's all we'll ever be."

A spasm of pain crossed Kevin's face, and then was replaced by a mask of anger.  "You know what your problem is, Mimi?" he spat out viciously.  "You live in a dream world.  Not that it doesn't make sense, what with the sheltered, perfect life your parents have given you.  But someday, you're going to have to wake up and face reality.  This perfect Mr. Right you're waiting for doesn't exist.  You have these crazy ideas about love and romance, with no basis in reality.  It's not love at first sight, Mimi.  It's not some instant spiritual connection.  But what we have is real, or it would be if you'd let it.  You've gotta grow up sometime, Meems."

Mimi's eyes smarted with tears.  Kevin had never, ever spoken to her like that.  Was it true?  Was she letting something beautiful slip through her fingers because of some schoolgirl's fantasy?  Maybe.  But she had to take that chance.  She shook her head sadly.  "I'm sorry, Kevin," she said softly, choking back her tears.  "You may be right.  But if love is a dream, then I'm not ready to wake up yet."

Kevin gave her an insightful look.  "He's gonna break your heart, you know," he said solemnly.

"What?  Who?" Mimi asked, confused.  Did Kevin think there was someone special?  Because there wasn't. 

"The man you finally let yourself fall in love with," he returned wisely.  "He's gonna rip your life and your perfect dream world apart.  And I for one am going to want to be there to see it happen.  Maybe then you'll understand what you've done to me."  He smiled bitterly.  "Bye, Meems."  He walked away from her towards his class.

"Hey, Kev, wait!" she called loudly after him.  He didn't even turn around.  She banged her head back against her locker.  She had never meant to hurt him.  He was one of her dearest friends, but why had he kept pushing her so hard?  He acted like she was happy about hurting him, and she wasn't.  She couldn't stand what she was doing to him.  But what was she supposed to do?  Go out with Kevin to make him happy, never mind what she felt?  Mimi was sorry for him, but she wasn't about to let her own dreams die that easily.  

Mimi was still staring blankly into space when the bell rang.  "Oh damn!" She raced down the hall towards her classroom, clutching tightly to her books and the dead rose.  She careened around the corner and smacked into something solid, falling backward, belongings scattering.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the something solid said.   "Are you okay?  Let me help you up."  He extended a strong hand towards her.

Mimi couldn't explain it, but the sound of his voice was giving her delightful little shivers down her spine.  She slipped her small hand into his and caught her breath at the knot that suddenly formed in her stomach.  The daze around her head clearing, she looked up at him, her eyes immediately staring into the depths of the most beautiful emerald-flecked eyes she had ever seen.  And Mimi Lockhart suddenly knew that all her dreams were about to come true.


	3. Chapter Three

The Power of a Name

**Chapter Three**

"Uh…thanks," Mimi stammered as he helped her up.  She stood there for a moment, lost in the depths of his eyes.  Gradually, the rest of his face began to register—the sandy blonde hair, the arrogant smile, the solid line of his jaw.  

"You should watch where you're going," the man said gruffly, the smile disappearing so fast Mimi wondered if she'd imagined it.  But no, even a dreamer like her couldn't imagine something that gorgeous.  "Here.  Let me help you with this stuff."  He knelt and started gathering her scattered papers.

"Thanks," said Mimi for the second time, cursing herself for sounding like such an idiot.  Whatever happened to captivating her dream man with her ready wit?  But suddenly, her tongue felt like lead in her mouth.  She couldn't think of a single clever thing to say.  She couldn't think, period.  She just knelt beside him and started picking up her books, while darting quick glances at him when she was sure he wasn't watching.  

She noticed the dying rose Kevin had given her just minutes before and hastily smashed it between two books, blushing.  What if he saw it and thought she had a boyfriend?  Of course, much to her disappointment, he barely seemed to take notice of her.  She frowned.  This wasn't how it was supposed to go at all.  What had happened to the love at first sight?  She was certainly experiencing it, but the feeling didn't seem to be mutual.

"Here you go," he said, standing up and extending the rest of her stuff to her.  

Mimi could see he was about to walk away, and then what if she never saw him again?  This called for drastic action.  "Wait!" she cried, more forcefully than the occasion called for.  She saw his eyes widen in surprise.  Again cursing herself, Mimi blushed.  Great.  Now he'd think she was crazy.  "I mean, thank you.  And I'm sorry for bumping into you.  But I don't remember seeing you before.  I'm Mimi Lockhart, by the way.  Are you new here?"  She cringed inwardly at her babbling.  Why, oh why, did she have to make an idiot of herself at every turn?

Her Mr. Right eyed her with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.  He gave her a tolerant, patronizing smile.  "Nice to meet you, Mimi Lockhart.  Shouldn't you be in class?"

Mimi's whole face turned crimson.  He sounded like a teacher.  Oh no, he couldn't be!  "Um, yes, sir," she said, with sudden deference.  He didn't look old enough to be a teacher.  Teachers just didn't look like that, damn it!  Of course, he didn't carry himself the way most teenage boys did either.  There was an assurance, an arrogance, a worldliness to his stance.  This was no boy.  This was a man.

He grinned sardonically at her respectful tone.  "Then get there, Miss Lockhart," he ordered with false severity.

Mimi didn't bother staying to try to find out more about him.  She had already embarrassed herself enough for one day.  And she was seriously late for class.  She had wasted too many minutes gawking at a guy who was totally beyond her reach.  With a nervous smile, she moved past him, heading for class, though this time at a more sedate pace.  Coming to her trigonometry class, she swore under her breath.  They were in the middle of a pop quiz.  Just her luck.

Her teacher looked up and saw her standing in the doorway. He did not look pleased.  "Nice of you to join us, Miss Lockhart.  Would you mind explaining to the class the reason for your tardiness?"  Mimi could see Kevin shoot her an angrily satisfied glance.

She seemed to melt under being the center of attention.  The whole class already looked ready to laugh, just for the sake of the interruption of the quiz.  "Um, I'm sorry, Mr. Meade.  I tripped…and fell," she finished lamely, trying her best to tune out the snickers of the other students.

Mr. Meade gave her a severe look.  "I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt, Miriam, based on your good record in this class.  Take your seat now.  You'll have to make up the test after school."  

Mimi slipped quietly into her seat, avoiding the stares of sympathetic friends and the laughing faces of the other students.  This day just kept getting better and better.  Well, unless that man truly was the one she'd been waiting her whole life for.  In that case, this day might just be worth it.

~~*~~

Brady Black looked down at the view from his top-story office at Basic Black.  The town of Salem lay before him in all its sleepy splendor.  He had spent his whole life growing up in this town.  It had given him everything and everyone he loved; and it had taken them away as well.  His jaw clenched as he turned away from the view that held only misery for him now.

He wouldn't be here at all if it wasn't for that girl.  She had gotten to him in a way no woman ever had before, and he couldn't walk away from that.  He smiled wistfully, knowing where he had gotten this romantic, idealistic streak from.  His sister.  Belle had believed in love, even when it hurt, even when it failed her.  Brady picked up one of the framed photos on his desk.  Belle and Jason at their senior prom.  They had been so happy then, so full of dreams, never knowing that in a few short months a routine check-up would change their lives forever.

He could still remember the look on Jason's face the day Belle told him the news.  The heartbreak, the anguish, the denial, the anger, all mingled there to form the most complete image of a man destroyed Brady had ever seen.  He thought sometimes that that look might have more to do with his inability to hate Jase than his own promise to Belle.  He studied once again his baby sister's bright smile and laughing blue eyes.  His little Tinkerbelle.  There would never be anyone quite like her.

Deserted by the man she loved, dying of cancer; and still, she had kept her unquenchable spirit.  And her love for Jason.  Her last words to Brady had been to beg him to forgive Jase.  And when he had promised, she simply let go and drifted away.  She had been at peace all along.  Sure in some unseen power Brady hadn't even begun to understand.  It wasn't until a few days later when her will was read that Brady truly understood what unconditional love really meant.

And now, here he was, trying to show the same kind of love to a hardened prostitute who didn't want anything to do with him.  Every reasonable instinct told him to just give up and go away.  But something deeper than reason drove him.  On some deep, unfathomable level, she had become part of him the first time he looked in her eyes.  He loved her.  And she needed him, whether she knew it or not.

Or maybe he was just deluding himself.  Maybe she was right.  Maybe all that time alone in the mountains had affected him more than he thought.  He shook his head.  No.  He was never lonely in the mountains.  It was only here in Salem that he got like this.  Bittersweet memories and empty ghosts were all that remained of their once happy family.  He studied the other photograph on his desk.  A family photo taken in Brady's first year of college.  Four smiling faces looked back at him.  Dad, Marlena, him, and Belle.  

Sure, they'd had their problems then.  He and Marlena rarely got along, and it had caused stress for the whole family.  If Brady could turn back time, he knew that was the one thing he would make right.  Actually, he thought with dark bemusement, if he could turn back time, he'd stop his parents from leaving the funeral.  Get them to take a cab, leave ten minutes sooner or later.  Anything, so that they could avoid that drunk driver, that accident that had left him the only surviving member of a once happy family.

Brady sometimes found himself wondering what their last moments were like.  Did they see the other car coming?  Were they still too numb with grief over Belle to care?  Did they suffer or was it instant and blissfully painless?  Did their whole lives flash before their eyes?  Had they thought of him and grieved for leaving him behind to face it all alone?  He knew he'd never know the answers to those and a hundred other questions.  He knew it was probably better that way.  But still, he wondered.  It was all he had left to dwell on.

And so, he went on alone.  He took his rightful place as head of his father's company.  But he left the day to day responsibilities of running Basic Black fall on others.  He usually came in no more than once a week to get a general idea of what was going on.  He honestly couldn't care less.  This wasn't what was important to him anymore.  He had found a peace, a comfort in the silence of the mountains; and he had thought never to leave them for this long.

But then, chance or fate had thrown him into the path of a woman with the eyes of an angel and the memories of a demon.  He still knew so little about her.  Hell, he didn't even know her real name.  But he would learn.  He would learn everything about her, no matter how unpleasant.  No matter how long it took, no matter how long he had to wait, or what kind of hell they had to go through, Brady would wait for her to trust him, to love him, to come away with him.  She was worth the wait.

~~*~~

"So I heard Kevin asked you to the dance," Susan commented, as she and Mimi sat down to lunch together.  Only the faintest twinge of jealousy and resentment clouded her pleasant tones.  Mimi Lockhart, Susan Adamson, and Kevin Lambert had all grown up on the same street.  They had been best friends all their lives, and nothing would change that as far as Mimi was concerned.  Not Kevin's crush on her, or Susan's unrequited love for him.

Mimi rolled her eyes.  "I know gossip spreads like wildfire, but I didn't think a guy asking me out was a big item," she said, bemused irony tingeing her voice.  "Is it all over school?"  Secretly, she kind of wished it was.  No one had ever cared enough to spread a rumor about her before.

Susan laughed, noting the excited gleam in her friend's eye.  "Sorry, Meems.  No.  Kev told me last night he was going to ask you this morning.  So how did he do it?  Did you say yes?"  She tried to make her words sound nonchalant, but her eyes took in every emotion that flickered across Mimi's face.

Mimi shook her head, sorrow and guilt reflected in her emerald eyes.  "I just couldn't, Su.  It just didn't feel right.  And now Kev is furious with me.  He said all these horrible things to me about how my dreams and ideals are nonsense, and I should just grow up and face reality."  

Susan felt all of Kevin's wounded pride welling up inside her.  How dare Mimi treat him like that!  "He's right, Meems," she said stoutly.  "Why can't you wake up and see what's right in front of your eyes?  Kevin is a great guy, and he loves you!  Why can't you see how lucky that makes you?"

Mimi looked at her with pity.  She knew that Susan was speaking out of her own pain, her own bruised heart.  "You don't understand, Su.  You love Kevin.  I don't.  Not that way.  And I can't pretend I do just to make him happy.  I want to find the kind of love my parents have, a man I love with all of my heart and soul, someone I can spend the rest of my life with.  I'm not interested in anything less."

Susan shook her head at her friend's delusional romanticism.  "That's just not how it works, Mimi.  There's no such thing as a perfect match.  As much as I care for Kevin, there are things about him that drive me crazy.  His crush on you being high on that list.  Your parents do have a great relationship.  The best I've ever seen.  And I bet if you ask them they'll tell you it's because of all the work they put into it, not because of some instant magical connection."

"I'm not afraid to work on a relationship, Susan," Mimi defended herself vehemently.  "I just want it to be the right relationship that I'm investing in.  I mean, look around us."  She gestured to include the crowd of high school students surrounding them.  "Everywhere people are pouring themselves into relationships on any or no basis at all.  And then, they're crushed when it doesn't work out.  We see it everyday, Su.  Now what's so wrong about waiting for a guy I'm sure about?"

"Because the guy you're looking for doesn't exist," Susan countered.  "He's formed out of every fairy tale you've ever read, every sappy movie you've ever watched.  Look, everyone has those fantasies when they're young, Meems.  But once you've lived a little in the real world, you'll see that there is no man on earth who can live up to your expectations."

"I'm not so sure about that," Mimi said hesitantly.  Her mind replayed every moment of her encounter with the handsome stranger this morning, every look on his face, every word that he spoke, and—most of all—every emotion he had made her feel.

Susan's eyes widened in shock.  Was Mimi blushing?  A slow smile spread across her face.  "Mimi, are you holding out on me?  Have you met someone?"  A thrill of hope shot through her.  If Mimi was seeing someone else, Kevin would have to give up and move on.

"No…I don't know.  Maybe, yeah," Mimi stammered.  She'd never felt so flustered before.  Her heart seemed to be singing to her that this was the one.  But he couldn't be.  Not if he was a teacher.

"Well?" Susan prompted impatiently.  "Details, please.  When?  Where?  How?  And, most importantly, who?"

"Um, this morning, the hall, I bumped into him, and I don't know."  Mimi smiled laughingly at her friend.  They weren't used to talking about stuff like this.  Neither of them had ever had much of a social life.

"You don't know?" Susan squealed incredulously.  "You bump into the guy you think might be your perfect match, the guy you've waited your whole life for, and you don't even bother to get his name?  Miriam Lockhart, this might be the stupidest thing you've ever done!"

Mimi rolled her eyes at her friend's excitement.  "What's it matter to you, Su?  You don't believe in this stuff.  Remember?" she teased.

"But you do," Susan argued, illogically to Mimi's way of thinking.  "And if you believe this guy is your soulmate or whatever, how can you just let him get away without even figuring out who he is?"

"There wasn't time," Mimi responded.  "Besides, if it's really meant to be, I'll see him again.  And besides that, I…I think he might be a teacher."  She avoided Susan's gaze after that last part, examining her sandwich like it was the most fascinating thing she'd ever seen.

"WHAT!?" Susan exclaimed.  "You're joking, right?  Tell me you're joking, Meems!  Please, tell me you haven't fallen for some nasty middle-aged pervert, like one of those girls from the Lifetime movies."  She shuddered for emphasis.

Mimi barely resisted the urge to knock her best friend upside the head.  "No, Susan.  They are not going to make a Lifetime movie out of my life.  He's not nasty or middle-aged.  I'm not even sure he's a teacher.  He didn't seem old enough, but not young enough to be a student either.  He was just…perfect."

Susan seemed to relax a little then.  "Okay.  Tell me the whole story, start to finish.  And then we'll try and figure out who your mystery man really is."  Needing no further prompting, Mimi poured out the entire brief encounter.  "Not a teacher," Susan said firmly as soon as she finished.

"How can you be so sure?" Mimi challenged.  "He could be new here."

"They'd have made an announcement about it," Susan responded sensibly, amazed at how dense Meems could be sometimes, especially when she got lost in one of her fantasies.  "He could be a substitute, but I doubt it.  Sounds more like someone's older brother or boyfriend dropping them off."  She was a lot less impressed by the mystery guy than Mimi obviously was.  Maybe it was one of those had to be there moments.

"Before second period?" Mimi questioned doubtfully.  She didn't want Susan's supposition to be true—particularly the boyfriend part.  If he didn't work here, she truly might not see him again.  And that idea gave way to panicked thoughts about growing old and dying alone, still waiting for her soulmate to reappear.

"I don't know, Meems.  But I hope you find him again, if only to see how delusional your fantasies are," Susan responded, her frustration with Mimi growing.  Why couldn't she just grow up and become a rational adult as everyone else had?

"I think you're wrong," Mimi maintained, still unshaken in her beliefs.  "And at any rate, it's a risk I'm willing to take."

~~*~~

She didn't want to be thinking of him.  Thinking of him was giving her a headache and keeping her awake when she needed to be resting for tonight.  She groaned and pushed aside the covers, going to the bathroom to grab a wet cloth and an aspirin for her head.  It was pounding.  People like him did that to her.  People who made her start thinking about her life instead of resigning herself to the inevitable.  

"I was doing fine," she muttered, splashing cold water on her face and neck.  She felt warm to the touch, and she wondered fleetingly if she might have caught something.  She hoped whatever it was, was deadly.  With her luck, there probably wasn't even a chance.  She had tried to kill herself too many times to count, and every time she had come through just fine.  The Phoenix had made sure of it.  He seemed to delight in letting her think she had finally found her release in death and then bringing her back from the brink.  One more way to show that he held all the power in her life.  Even power over life and death.

She trudged back to her bed and lay down, covering her eyes with the wet cloth.  It was impossible to believe even now that the Phoenix wasn't going to be there behind her shoulder every time she turned around.  She didn't sleep.  She couldn't.  Her dreams were plagued with nightmares where his face leered out at her and his cold laugh met her at every turn.  "_You're mine, Sapphire.  You tried to escape.  But you know better, don't you?  I'll always be there.  No matter where you go."  And she would try to run through her dream; but sure enough, everywhere she turned, there he was._

No. Life was just one form of hell before death.  And then after death, who knew?  Perhaps a hell a thousand times greater with another Phoenix waiting for her with every step.  Or perhaps a nothingness.  She would simply cease to exist.  That didn't bother her.  She had stopped living a long time ago.  She wasn't fool enough to believe in heaven.  If God existed, he had turned his back on her a long time ago.

She couldn't think about it anymore.  If she did, she'd go mad.  She had to just shut down her brain and her emotions and live purely on instinct.  And she'd been doing a damn good job of it until that idiot man had made her his rescue mission.  And now, she couldn't seem to shake these clawing fears and doubt.  She needed an escape, if only a temporary one.

Sitting up and removing the cloth, she pulled out her Discman and popped in a CD.  Music was her refuge.  It was the only thing besides her name that even the Phoenix had been unable to take from her.  That Discman was the first thing she bough when she escaped.  And as far as she was concerned, it was all she needed to survive.  The music she chose to listen to brought back memories of a happier time in her life.  At least, she hoped it had been real.  Maybe it hadn't.  Maybe it had all been just a wonderful dream, and her life had only begun on the day she met the Phoenix.

She tuned on the CD and leaned back, immediately relaxing as the sounds of _Carmen filled her ears.  This was her addiction, the only drug she craved.  While the other girls spent all their money trying to feed their alcohol, cocaine, and heroin addictions, she saved hers up, hording for the day she would finally be able to bid goodbye to this kind of life forever.  Her only exception to this frugal policy was the weekly CD she bought herself.  Opera was her passion.  She had the full libretti of a dozen different ones memorized.  _

She was swept away by from her problems by the crashing crescendos of Bizet filling her ears.  Which is why it came as such an unpleasant shock when someone's shadow fell across her bed, interrupting her fleeting solace.  She yanked off the headphones and glared fiercely up at Nicole for daring to intrude on her privacy.  "What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded forcefully.

Nicole backed away from the heat of the other woman's rage.  "Relax, Sapphire," she responded, her hands raised in surrender.  "If you want me to go, I'll go.  I just know how much trouble you have sleeping and thought you might like some company.  Sorry.  It won't happen again."  There was a wounded look on the older woman's face.

Nicole Walker was a hardened veteran of this job at almost thirty.  She had never planned on coming to this of course.  It had all started with a porn movie her father had forced her to make when she was sixteen.  She had become a wealthy businessman's mistress before her eighteenth birthday.  But her own self-loathing and her growing drug habit had caused him to get rid of her before she became a liability.  And so she found herself forced to rely on the oldest profession to support her drug habit.

Strangely, Nicole had been the only girl who had been able to form any slight friendship with her.  Perhaps because she was more thick-skinned than the others.  Nicole was able to deal with her rages and cold silences when everyone else just gave up.  Or perhaps it was because she had formed a small soft spot for Nicole.  Everyone needed a friend, after all.  

She sucked in a breath, feeling a sudden and very rare pang of guilt.  "Wait, Nicole.  I'm sorry.  What did you want?"  She knew better than to believe that crap about coming just to keep her company.  Nobody just talked in this building.  Well, except for Brady Black, apparently.  She pushed him out of her thoughts and focused on Nicole.  She probably needed money for a hit.

Nicole flopped onto the bed, her eyes clear and lucid for once, her worldly face breaking into a rare smile.  "I talked with Barb after I got off work.  She mentioned your last client.  So what was he like?  What did he really want?"  Unlike her, Nicole was still able to find some amusement in the cruel twists of fate that had brought them to this.  Nicole believed in making the most of the hand life dealt you.  Of course, Nicole also got stoned almost every day of the week.

She shrugged, getting up and moving to her vanity, intentionally avoiding Nicole's probing stare.  "He wanted to talk," she replied in a tone that left no room for further questions.  Falling back to her old habit when situations got unpleasant, she picked up her hairbrush and started brushing her thick, dark hair out in long, unhurried strokes.

Nicole studied her, knowing the smart thing to do would be to shut up and leave now.  But she was curious.  She'd never been able to pry anything out of her younger, yet strangely more experienced, friend.  This at least was a reaction of some sort.  "So what kind of talk?  Did he want to jack-off while you talked sex or something?  Was he a total perv?"

The hairbrush hit the vanity table with a loud thump.  Her sapphire eyes shot fire at Nicole's reflection.  Even if she allowed Nicole certain liberties, there were lines she should know better than to cross.  And talking about men, any man, was one of them.  "No.  He wanted to talk to me."

Nicole's eyes widened in surprise.  "Do you know him or something?"  She had a sudden sympathetic look on her face.  "Is he who you're running from?" she asked softly.

She whirled around, stark terror revealed in her eyes for only a moment before she hid it again behind her mask of indifference.  "No.  I'd never met him before this morning," she answered coolly.  "And as for the rest of it, leave it alone, Nicole."  There was a warning in her tone that even Nicole couldn't ignore.

Nicole shrugged.  "Okay.  So this guy, what's he like?  Why would he pay so much just to talk to you?"  She frowned.  They all got twisted requests on an almost nightly basis, especially Sapphire.  But a man coming just to talk?  That was truly unusual.  And terrifying.

She turned back to her mirror, annoyed with Nicole's insistence on dwelling on the man she was trying so hard to forget.  "I don't know," she said testily.  "I didn't take time to figure it out."

"Well, what did he want to talk to you about?" Nicole pressed on.

"I don't know.  I didn't pay attention," she lied, wishing with all her heart that she had kicked Nicole out from the beginning.

"Yeah, right," Nicole countered, not buying it for a second.  She was surprised at the way her friend was behaving.  Sapphire was known as the only one of them who had never had a weak spot.  She had never allowed any of the men she slept with have any effect on her.  But Nicole could see easily that this one was different.  This one had gotten to her.  "So was he handsome?  Did he tell you his name?"

"If you're so interested in him, have Barb send him to you if he comes again," she snapped.  "But I'm not stupid enough to fall prey to the fantasy that there's an escape from this, Nicole. If you want to, go ahead.  Just do it somewhere else.  I have a headache, and I need my rest."

"Fine," Nicole relented, sighing as she got up.  "You win, Sapphire.  I give up.  But I know you're lying to me.  This one got to you, didn't he?  Ah, honey, it happens to us all."  She smiled with bitter amusement.  "The trick is to enjoy it while it lasts, while still preparing yourself for it to end."

"No," she returned viciously.  "The trick is to realize that love is crap, that men are bastards who only want to use you, and that life is nothing but one hellish experience after another.  That's the only safety, Nicole."

Nicole paused by the door, looking back and shaking her head.  "Whoever it was that made you like this must have been something else.  You know, Sapphire, we all have scars.  Some of us just hide them better than others."  She gave up when she got no response, slipping out and shutting the door behind her.

She breathed a sigh of relief as Nicole left.  She should have known better than to let Nicole even a little into her life.  She was usually smarter than that.  She would just have to work that much harder to shut her out now.  And the truth was, she didn't have the energy.  She was tired.  Tired of life, tired of living like this, tired of looking in the mirror and seeing only the filth that ran so deep she could never get it off.  It was in her blood.  And there was no way out.  No way out at all.

~~*~~

Mimi tapped her pencil restlessly on the desk, looking idly around the empty classroom.  She checked her watch again.  Where the hell was Mr. Meade?  She hoped her mom had been able to pick up Connor, or he'd have an awful long wait.  She was almost ready to leave and just take the incomplete on the assignment when she heard footsteps echoing squeakily on the tile floor.  Finally.

He sure was taking his sweet time about getting here though.  She could hear him stopping at every classroom, checking for God knew what.  Uneven desk alignment, perhaps.  She muttered something under her breath about anal retentive perfectionists and began tapping her foot impatiently.  Didn't he realize that she had a life, too?  Finally, the footsteps stopped in front of her classroom door.  The knob twisted slowly, and then…

"You!" Mimi exclaimed breathlessly, as she once again was confronted by the only man to ever make her heart do cartwheels.

He stood in the doorway, watching her with the same bemused expression he had this morning, like she was something entirely new to him.  "Miss…Lockhart, wasn't it?"  Mimi nodded, too tongue-tied to speak.  "What are you still doing here?  School let out half-an-hour ago."

Mimi flushed, once again feeling like an inferior dolt.  "I'm supposed to make up a test.  But I guess Mr. Meade forgot or something."  She frowned suddenly, wondering why she was telling him all this.  "Who are you anyway?  Why are you here?"

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, suddenly looking much more boyish and—to Mimi's mind at least—more adorable.  "I'm the new security guard," he said, with a failed attempt at gruffness.  "And no students are allowed in school after hours unless accompanied by a teacher or in a school-sponsored club or activity."  He sounded bored, like he was repeating a catechism he'd been forced to learn.

Mimi tried to keep her emotions from showing.  School security guard?  Not exactly her ideal profession for her dream man, but at least it meant she'd have plenty of opportunities to see him around.  Hell, if it meant a chance to see him again, she'd become a juvenile delinquent.  "Like I said, I was waiting for my teacher.  But since he's not here, I guess I should just go," she said, standing and grabbing her backpack.

"Hold on a sec," he ordered her, still blocking the doorway with his muscular frame.  "They're having an emergency staff meeting downstairs.  I'm sure that's where Mr. Meade is.  If you want to wait for him, you can."

"But I thought you said students weren't allowed."  She took in his hunter green shirt—unable to keep herself from noticing how it accentuated his gorgeous eyes—and khaki pants.  She frowned, suddenly doubting his story.  "If you're a security guard, why aren't you wearing a uniform?"

His mouth tipped sardonically.  "It hasn't arrived yet.  But if you think I'm here to prey on unsuspecting high school girls…I guess you'll have to wait and see."  He made his voice deeper and darker, but there was a teasing light to his eyes.  He raised his eyebrows, challenging her.  "What do you think?  Do you trust me?"

Mimi knew her answer immediately.  She knew nothing about him, not even his name; but her heart told her that this was a man she could trust with her life.  "I trust you," she replied firmly, her emerald eyes meeting his unwaveringly.

He frowned, actually seeming to see her for the first time.  She felt him look at her and into her instead of through her.  His look warmed her to the tips of her toes.  She fought back the urge to blush and simply stood there, directly meeting his stare.  Finally, he shook his head, laughing self-deprecatingly.  She was just some silly, high school girl.  Why had he felt that momentary connection to her?  "Okay, then," he said, purely for the sake of breaking the charged silence.

Mimi smiled shyly, sitting back down.  "Oh!" she exclaimed suddenly.  "By the way, what's your—"

"Sorry, I'm late, Miss Lockhart," said Mr. Meade briskly, entering the room as the man stepped aside for him.  "Perhaps now you'll know how it feels and won't keep the class waiting so long."  He dropped a sheet of paper on her desk, and Mimi looked up at him in flustered confusion.  "You have forty-five minutes to complete it.  Starting now."  He sank behind his desk, checked his watch, and pulled out papers to grade.

Eventually, Mimi shook herself out of her disorientation and turned back to the doorway.  He was gone.  Her Mr. Right had disappeared again, and she still didn't know his name.


	4. Chapter Four

The Power of a Name

**Chapter Four**

When Mimi arrived home that night, she was sure her day couldn't get any more bizarre.  That was before she sat down to dinner with her family, and her mother made her big announcement.  "Mimi, Conner," she began innocently enough.  "As you know, I haven't been feeling very well lately…"

"Oh, Mom!" Mimi exclaimed, interrupting her.  "Everything's been so crazy I forgot to ask.  How did your doctor's appointment go?  You're all right, aren't you?"  She couldn't believe she had been too absorbed in her own thoughts to even take time to ask her mother how she was.  What a selfish brat she must be.

"I'm fine, Mimi," Maureen reassured her daughter with a fond, secret smile across the table to her husband.  "Frankly when I went to the doctor, I was sure she would tell me I was going through…"  She paused, remembering Connor's presence.  "Well, you know.  But I'm not.  The truth is…well…kids, your father and I are having a baby."  She anxiously watched her children to judge their reactions.

"A baby?" Connor repeated, wrinkling his nose.  "It won't take my room will it?"

David ruffled his son's hair affectionately.  "No, Connor, your room is safe."  Connor nodded his satisfaction.  Apparently that was the extent of his interest in the new baby.  David turned his attention to his daughter.  Mimi seemed stunned speechless, a rare quality in his daughter.  He squeezed her hand slightly.  "Meems?  What do you think?"

Mimi shook her head slowly in returning sensibility.  What did she think?  She didn't think.  She was incapable of it.  Her mother was having a baby the year she was graduating high school.  Her mother shouldn't be having babies.  She was too old!  She should be having grandchildren soon, damn it.  Mimi pulled herself out of her fog and saw the nervous looks on her parents' faces as they watched her.  But even that couldn't disguise the happy, expectant glow they both had.  They were overjoyed about this.  

And why shouldn't they be?  And why shouldn't Mimi be happy for them?  She was the one who was always bragging about how her parents loved each other so much.  This baby was proof of that love.  As she was.  As Connor was.  "I think," she started slowly.  "That this baby is getting the greatest parents in the world."  She smiled beatifically at them.  "I'm thrilled for you—for all of us.  I'm gonna be a sister again."  Her smile widened as she remembered how cute and fun Connor had been as a baby.

"Oh darling," her mother murmured, tears shimmering in the green eyes she had passed down to her daughter.  "Thank you.  I know this has got to be awkward for you.  It is for me too.  But I'm just so happy."  With one hand, she clasped Mimi's free hand in her own.  With the other, she lovingly covered her still flat abdomen.  "One thing is for sure.  With a big sister and brother like you two, this baby will have as much love as the world can hold."

Connor just rolled his eyes, more interested in his taco than in his mother's sappiness.  But Mimi moved.  Not just by her mother's words, but by the look in her father's eyes as he watched her mother.  After twenty years of marriage, he was still head over heels in love with her.  Maybe more so than on the day they married.  _That's what I want, Mimi thought wistfully.  __If Susan saw that look in her dad's eyes every night, she would understand.  I want to be held and caressed without him even needing to touch me.  I want a love that lasts a lifetime._

And once again, the stranger's face swam before her eyes.

~~*~~

A soft knock sounded on Mimi's door late that night.  "Come in," she called from her wrapped up position in the window seat, staring at the stars.  

Maureen Lockhart opened the door and smiled at the familiar sight.  "You know, from the time you were five years old, I don't think there's ever been a time I've come into your room and found you anyplace but that window seat."  She came into the room, and Mimi bunched up her legs to make room for her mother on the other end of her seat.  "Whether you were playing or reading or talking on the phone or…wishing on a star?"  She smiled and raised her eyebrows.

Mimi laughed self-consciously.  She and her mother had always had a unique bond.  They were in every respect mother and daughter, but they were also the closest of friends.  She had always been able to tell her mother everything.  "Does every mother know their daughter so well?"

"No, only the good ones," Maureen teased lightly.  "So I'll use some more of my motherly intuition and guess that you were wishing for Prince Charming to come and sweep you off your feet."  There was no derision in her tone.  She was proud that her daughter set such high ideals for any man that might come into her life.  It would keep her from making so many wrong choices.

Mimi blushed a little, but she smiled too.  "I blame you, Mom.  You shouldn't have read me so many fairy tales growing up.  Now I have to ask every guy I meet if they've got a white horse to sweep me off on.  And don't even get me started on the rarity of cute guys with spare castles lying around."

Maureen laughed.  "Well, I'm not sure that we have to take that part literally, honey.  Now, do you want to tell me what's on your mind?"  Mimi had seemed distracted from the moment she arrived home, even before they had told her about the baby.

Mimi sighed, resigned to the downside of having a mother who could see right through her.  She didn't give up until she knew the full story.  "A lot of stuff.  It all started this morning at school.  Kevin asked me to go to the prom with him."

Maureen grimaced, preparing herself for what she knew was about to come next.  Honestly, when would that boy understand that Mimi just wasn't interested?  Personally, she had never liked Kevin all that much.  Or rather, she didn't like the way he treated her daughter.  He claimed to love her, but every word Maureen had ever heard him speak to Mimi had seemed condescending and patronizing, like she was just a stupid little girl and should be grateful that a guy like him would want her.  Not the kind of thing to warm a mother's heart.  "How did he react when you said no?"

Mimi wasn't surprised that her mother had known her answer.  Turning down Kevin had become routine in her life.  "He said I should quit living in a dream world and face reality.  That I should quit chasing illusions before I let something good slip away.  Is he right, Mom?" she asked, all her doubts finally reaching to the surface.

"No," Maureen responded immediately and firmly.  "He was shooting his mouth off because you hurt his pride.  You did the right thing, honey.  Never go along with anything you don't feel is right just to spare someone else's feelings.  You know that.  You are an intelligent, strong young woman—with a firm grasp of reality, I might add—who has sound instincts and a good heart.  Trust yourself and your heart, Mimi.  They won't lead you wrong."

Mimi's heart gave a little leap.  Did that mean she could trust her emotions about her mystery guy too?  Could he really be the one she was waiting for?  "Mom, did you know Dad was the only one for you the first time you met him?"  She asked her question with seeming nonchalance, but she knew her mother would be able to see her heart shining through her eyes.

Maureen smiled slightly as she recalled her first memory of David.  She had been working in a flower shop at the time, and he had come in to buy flowers for a date.  He had returned every day for two weeks to buy a bouquet before finally admitting he came to see her and asking her out on a date.  Mimi had grown up hearing the story of course.  It had once been her favorite bedtime story.  But this question was different.  Maureen could see how very important her answer was to her daughter.

"I'm not sure I'd go that far," Maureen answered thoughtfully.  "It took me quite a while to realize that.  I'm not sure I truly even comprehended that concept until the day you were born, and he laid you in my arms.  That's when I realized that we were meant to be together forever, living as two halves of the same heart."

"Oh," Mimi responded glumly, her momentary hope sinking.  Susan was right after all.  Love at first sight was an illusion.  Her parents' relationship had always been her model of what love should be; and if their love had built over time, then that's what she should be looking for.  Not some silly childish notion of kismet and instant connections.  Not some handsome stranger with eyes that held mysterious depths and a smile that made her melt inside.

"But," Maureen continued, too lost in her own thoughts to take into account the expression on her daughter's face.  "There was a moment when I was handing him a bouquet and our fingers brushed.  I felt a bond with him that I'd never felt with anyone before.  Our eyes met, and I could almost swear I saw his soul."

Mimi's emotions continued their tumultuous roller coaster ride as her heart resumed its celebration.  "Really?"

Maureen nodded and blushed like a school girl.  She gave a self-deprecating laugh.  "I know it sounds a little silly, but that's how it felt then and how it still feels now."  She studied her daughter's bright, hopeful face and her sparkling emerald eyes.  "It will happen for you, darling.  I'm sure of it.  If anyone deserves a storybook romance, it's you."

Mimi just nodded, unwilling to share her Prince Charming with her mother just yet.  She felt it might go over a little better if she as least knew his name first.

~~*~~

Jason groaned as he sank back onto the bed.  What the hell had convinced him to take a job as a school security guard?  The last thing he wanted to do with his days was search a bunch of noisy, obnoxious brats for concealed weapons.  In fact, the only people he truly wanted to see were his good friends Jack Daniels and Sam Adams.  He mentally cursed the employment office that had given him a job where he couldn't even drink.  And going to work at seven in the morning wasn't someth8ing that could be done with a hangover.  It wasn't even something normal people should do at all.

Maybe her should just quit and leave town again.  But something inside him forbade him from doing that.  Something beyond his power held him here.  He couldn't for the life of him understand it, but he obeyed.  He didn't have anyplace else to go anyway.  He couldn't, he wouldn't go back to Salem.  And he was tired of drifting.  He had been living out of a suitcase for too long.  Hotel life was getting extremely old.

He had run far and fast to escape his memories of Belle, his fear of her death.  But the only place he had found he could forget was in a bottle.  Now with alcohol forbidden him, the memories came rushing back.  But this time, he didn't want to forget.  He wanted to remember everything about her.  From his first memory of the time they were four years old playing in the sandbox when she had kissed his cheek and Brady had laughed and said he had cooties to the last time he had seen her, so close to the end but with the same bright light shining out of her eyes.

He had been such a fool, such a selfish, stupid fool.  He had missed the chance to form more memories of her, the chance to say goodbye.  He hadn't even attended her funeral.  And now nothing would be able to bring him joy the way her sweet smile had.  No one would complete him the way she did.  God, he missed her!  It had been two terribly long years since then, but still he was unable to move on.  He doubted he would ever be able to.

He hadn't even been able to really look at a woman since Belle.  Well, except that one time.  How he wished he could erase that night.  In a moment of weakness, he had betrayed the memory of the purest woman in the world, a woman he had loved all his life, with a cheap whore.  The things they had done that night still left a foul taste in his mouth.  He remembered how cool and cavalier she had been about it.  She must have had some sort of ice water running through her veins.

Jason didn't want to think about her.  He didn't want to think about the dozens of propositions he'd been made since leaving Salem either.  All those women were cheap trash.  They couldn't possibly compete with a woman he had elevated to the ranks of sainthood.  There would never be another Belle.  And there would never be another woman for Jason.  He swore it on the most precious thing he had left—Belle's memory.

~~*~~

She greeted him with a twisted smile.  She had been sure after yesterday he'd never be back again.  Oh well.  Maybe today he'd just take what he was really after and leave.  Then, she wouldn't have to think about him anymore.  She could put him into the same category as all the rest and forget about him.  "Hello, mister.  Realize you didn't get your money's worth yesterday?" she taunted.

Brady frowned.  Her defenses were practically insurmountable.  How was he ever going to break through them?  "I told you I'd be back," he said calmly, refusing to let her rattle him with her words.  Or with her almost non-existent black lace lingerie.  But it was damn near impossible not to fantasize about her body.  _Focus on her eyes, he ordered himself.  __They're all that matters._

At the moment, her eyes were filled with laughing triumph.  She had seen how he responded physically to her appearance.  Good.  It was progress.  "Sure you came here to talk again, mister?" she asked derisively, coming close enough for the ripe swell of her breasts to barely rub against his chest.  "Because I'm sure you've thought of other, better ways to pass the time."

He inhaled sharply and she was sure she'd won.  But then, he stepped quickly away from her and took the chair by the vanity again.  "I'm sure.  I came here to talk to you, Tempest."

Careful not to let her fear show, she sat down on the edge of the bed, not even bothering to reach for her robe to cover herself.  If this was how wanted to play it, fine.  She would just let him squirm.  "So, what do you want to talk about, mister?  Why you have such a hard time getting it up?"

Brady raised an eyebrow sardonically.  He understood perfectly what she was doing.  Trying to humiliate and anger him enough so that he would have sex with her just to prove his manhood.  Too bad for her he wasn't taking the bait.  "How about we discuss another actual problem instead?  Like your excessive need to play this by your set of rules.  Have you even considered the possibility that maybe—just maybe—I'm different from all the other men you've known?"

The knot of fear in her belly was tightening with every word he spoke.  She needed him gone and now, and she knew just how to get to him.  She laughed mockingly.  "How?  Are you gay, mister?  Is that the problem?  Confused about your sexuality and needing to prove you're all man?"  

But he didn't seem the least bit upset by her accusation.  In fact, he seemed a little amused by it.  As if it was what he had expected her to do.  "I'm not gay, and I know you know that.  Why are you so intent on attacking me, Acacia?  What exactly are you afraid will happen if you let me in a little?"  He studied her eyes intently, judging her reaction.  He was thrilled when he saw a dart of surprise join the continued fear.  He was getting to her at last.

"What did you just call me?" she asked, not sure she wanted to know, but needing the distraction from his questions.  Damn him!  Why wouldn't he just give up and go away?  

"Acacia," Brady repeated.  "It means 'thorny.'"  He had spent hours yesterday pouring over name books for precisely this situation.  The only honest reaction he had been able to get from her the first time was at the mention of her name.  It was a weakness he would exploit for as long as it took to get her to open up to him.  

The fear was at a pitch where it could easily overwhelm her if she let it.  Who was this man?  What right did he have to do this to her?  "That's not my name," she said coldly through clenched teeth.  So many men had called her so many things over the years, but this was different.  She didn't want him calling her anything but Sapphire.  

"Neither is Sapphire," Brady returned, completely unperturbed by her anger.  At least it was real instead of the false mask of the seductress she wore.  And it was better by far than her cold indifference.  "But I'm not calling you that.  So unless you feel like telling me your real name, you're going to have to live with the ones I choose."

"I don't have to live with any of them," she spat out, completely forgetting about the front of aloof disdain she was supposed to be putting up.  "Look, I don't know what your thing is.  Maybe you've watched _Pretty Woman one too many time and have bought into the whole hooker-with-a-heart-of-gold fantasy.  Let me give you a clue.  That's not me.  I'm not waiting to be rescued by some guy.  I don't want to be.  So take your crap and feed it to someone who cares."_

Her entire body was shaking with rage by the time she finished.  But instead of looking hurt, offended, and ready to leave, he was still sitting there, staring at her with crystal blue eyes full of emotions so foreign to her life that she didn't even know what to call them.  She didn't even want to know what they were.  They frightened her more than anything else. 

"You don't trust me at all.  I get that," Brady finally replied.  "I'm sure you've never been given much reason to trust anyone before in your life.  But I'm going to prove you're wrong about me.  I'm not going to use you, Tempest.  I'm not going to hurt you like the others have."

_Damn right, you're not, she swore silently.  __I'm not going to give you the chance.  "Forgive me if I don't fall at your feet in gratitude," she responded sarcastically.  "I'll make this real easy on you, mister.  I'm yours for the rest of this hour.  Whatever you want, I can do it for you.  I can make you feel things you've only dreamed possible.  But if you're looking for some sinner to reform, the church rescue mission is just around the corner.  Now, what's it gonna be?"_

Brady just kept looking at her in that way that terrified her.  She had thought she had seen every way a man could look, but this was horrifying simply by its inability to fit into any of those categories.  She was too smart, too well-trained to believe a word out of him mouth.  But she couldn't figure out what he was after.  And she hated nothing more than feeling unprepared.  It left her off-balance and vulnerable to attacks like this.

"I want you," he replied quietly after a long pause.  She smiled, catlike, ready to show him what she was really capable of.  "But I don't want what you're offering.  I don't want your body for an hour.  I want all of you—mind, heart, body, and soul.  And I want you forever."

The fear she had been feeling since he first entered the room escalated to a full-scale panic.  She would never belong to anyone forever again.  She would never give him that kind of control over her.  And she would never give him her heart and soul—for the simple reason that she didn't have them.  Not anymore.  Her mind was a place so dark that even if she did let him in, he'd run away repulsed by what he found.  "You can wish for it all you want, mister.  It's never gonna happen."

Brady just smiled confidently.  "We'll see about that, Acacia.  I'm a very patient man."  He wasn't sure where his assurance came from.  Only the sure knowledge that there was a reason, a purpose greater than what he comprehended behind his connection to her.  

"Then you can wait till hell freezes over," she bit out.  What had happened to her indifference, her thick armor?  It had deserted her the moment he entered the room.  And she hadn't needed it this much since she had escaped the Phoenix.

"Okay," Brady responded, completely relaxed.  "So while I'm waiting, feel like telling me anything about yourself?"  She merely glared at him in petulant silence.  "I'll take that as a no.  Too bad.  Now I'll have to bore you with the life and times of Brady Black."

She rolled her eyes at his lame attempt to get her to open up to him.  Like she would fall for that.  But then, much to her surprise, he did start talking about himself and with too much detail and feeling for her to believe he was making it up.  He'd have to be a better liar than the Phoenix himself.  He talked about his home in the mountains, about his parents and his sister.  She tried to hid her amazement at how accepting and yet affected he sounded when he told her of their deaths.  How did he achieve that level of peace?  She berated herself for caring.  She was supposed to be working at shutting him out.  She had to detach herself, sit in silence.  Pretend to listen but not really hear.  Focus on anything else.  Replay arias in her head.  Watch the clock tick the minutes by.  She was skilled in the practice of faking it.  This shouldn't be so hard.

Brady watched her eyes glaze over.  Damn it.  He was losing her.  He had been getting through to her for a while.  He was sure of it.  She would be sure to remember him if he gave her some of his personal history.  He needed to set himself apart from the endless stream of nameless faces she confronted every day and night.  And he'd been doing it.  He'd seen her eyes flicker when he'd told her about Belle.  But then she had just shut down.  He couldn't blame her really.  She had no reason to trust him, or anyone else for that matter.  She didn't need to tell him her story for him to know that she'd been used and abused for most of her life.  But he would keep trying until he had earned her trust.  

"Time's up," she interrupted him, her eyes on the clock.  "You need to leave now."  She was off the bed and practically shoving him out the door.

Brady turned in the doorway, once again seeing the fear in her eyes behind her cold outer shell.  His eyes locked fully with hers, and she found herself unable to pull them away.  "Come away with me," he whispered huskily, repeating his plea from the night before.

Once again, the shadow of the Phoenix settled over her, filling her with a dread of the man in front of her.  He could have as much power over her as the Phoenix had, and there was no telling how he would use it.  Beneath his nice guy exterior show, he could even more ruthless than the Phoenix.  "No," she answered with even more force than the day before.

Brady nodded.  He knew it was coming, but still he had to ask her.  It was a compulsion he had no control over.  "I'll see you tomorrow," he said pleasantly, acting unaffected by her rejection.  He was used to rejection.  He'd dealt with it his whole life.

"You don't need to bother," she returned scathingly, hoping to make him see what a lost cause she was.  "The answer will still be the same, no matter how often you come.  If you're really so lonely, I'm sure one of the other girls would be happy to listen to you.  And for a lot less money too."  

"I told you before, I want you.  I'm not leaving this place until you come with me."  He could tell by the look on her face that he had pushed her as far as he dared tonight.  "Good night, Tempest."

She watched him walk away, feeling her migraine growing by the instant.  Damn him.  Why was he doing this to her?  Why was he trying to hard to break down her walls?  She couldn't let him.  Once the walls were gone, he'd be able to see what was inside of her.  And that was nothing.  Nothing at all.


	5. Chapter Five

The Power of a Name

**Chapter Five**

He was back again.  Why wouldn't he just give up and go away?  But no, day after day he came and sat and talked to her.  She never knew a man could have so much to say.  He went on and on about anything and everything.  Most of the time, she was able to just tune him out, but there were times it was absolutely impossible.  Like when he talked about his cabin in the mountains.  The way he described it made it sound so peaceful and serene.  Peace and serenity, two things she had always searched for and never found.

And she owed him a debt of thanks.  She finally knew what she was going to do when she got away from here.  She'd buy herself a nice little cabin far away from everything and everyone.  She'd never have to see another man again for as long as she lived.  Brady's little visits, however unpleasant, were helping her come ever closer to that goal.  A few more weeks of this would give her enough money to leave this business behind her forever.  She reminded herself of that constantly, whenever her ability to shut him out failed, whenever he said something that made her armor show its cracks.

Nothing did that better than his use of different names for her.  Whether Tempest, Acacia, or one of a dozen others, he made sure she knew the meaning behind the name, the reason it applied to her.  He never once called her Sapphire.  He never once looked at her the way other men did, like she was something to be used and then thrown away.  He never once tried to touch her, and she had made it clear that he could anytime he wanted.  He never once said anything to hurt or degrade her.  He didn't play by her rules at all, and that frightened her more than anything else.

Her headache hadn't gone away since the first day he came, either.  His words, his insistence that there was more to her life than this, his pleas to come away with him were reigniting that long-dead and much-feared spark of hope.  But she knew better than to encourage it.  She tried to stifle it as much as possible.  It was the only way to survive, to just live her life and do what she did without thought of anything beyond.

Brady was running out of things to say.  For all the interest she showed, he might as well have been talking to a blank wall.  She just sat there on the bed, swaying her foot and staring through him as though he wasn't even there.  How was he supposed to get through to her when she refused to acknowledge he was even there?  She had even gotten used to the names he called her.  They had ceased to faze her.  Nothing got through to her.  She was like ice.

No, not ice.  Ice could be melted.  She was a solid stone wall, completely impenetrable.  He felt like grabbing her shoulders and shaking sense into her.  But that would just push her farther away from him.  If that were even possible.  He was at a total loss.  He still didn't know anything more about her than he had when he began.  Part of him just wanted to give up.  Maybe he was wrong.  Maybe it was only a physical attraction to her that had brought him here.  Maybe he should just use her body and let that be enough.

But something held him back.  Perhaps it was only pride, the inability to admit defeat.  But Brady refused to accept that.  There was more to this than his ego or his libido.  He loved her.  For reasons still unknown to him, she had captured his heart the first moment he'd looked into her eyes.  And fool though he was, he couldn't give up on her.

Of course, that didn't solve the problem of how to get her to open up to him, of how to make her trust him.  At the moment, it would be enough to get that glazed look out of her eyes, to get her to really look at him.  Brady looked around the room, trying to think of anything at all to say to her.  He tried to ignore the implications of various objects thrown about the room.  He tried not to imagine what they were used for.

She saw the direction his gaze took and smiled bitterly.  Of course.  It had just taken him much longer to come to the point than others.  But all men were alike.  She was glad she hadn't let herself truly believe the things he said.  He was just like all the others.  As the silence lengthened, she knew it was time to go to work.  "So, mister, finally run out of things to say?" she taunted scathingly.

"I'm getting tired of the sound of my own voice," Brady admitted, not the least bit rattled.  "I don't suppose you'd like to try carrying the conversation for a change."  He studied her face intently, hoping for any reaction.  He got none.  The bland, bored expression she habitually wore remained firmly in place.

"What would you like me to talk about?" she asked tonelessly, knowing her indifference got under his skin more than anything else she could do.  _Well, maybe not anything, she thought, a plan forming in the back of her mind.  _

Brady felt his frustration growing by the instant.  This was a lost cause.  He was never going to get through to her.  "You," he said, unable to keep the edge from his voice.  "I want to talk about you.  I want to know you, Tempest."

She smiled, a cold, predatory smile as she got off the bed and walked towards him, every step designed to draw attention to the flawless curves of her body clearly visible through the white satin lingerie.  "There's an easier way to get to know me, mister," she purred, as she sank onto his lap, her legs draped over the sides of the chair.  She could feel his arousal hard beneath her and knew that her moment had come.  She would finally be able to prove to him and herself that he was just like any other man.  "Just say the word, mister.  Whatever you want."

Brady's brain was officially overruled as the dictator of his actions.  She was completely in control of him.  Her mouth had made its way down his jawline and to the sensitive spot on his neck, where her tongue was doing wild and wonderful things to him.  Her hands had made their way under his shirt and were caressing his solid chest and abs.  The scent of lavender that clung to her was assaulting his senses, drowning rational thought.  Of their own volition, Brady's hands reached out to touch her, desperate for the feel of her satiny skin.

Nothing in the world could have stopped him at that moment from raising her mouth to his, from devouring those strawberry-flavored lips, from plunging his tongue into the silky recesses of her mouth and memorizing every inch of it.  But when she started to take back control of the kiss, when her teeth bit down gently in an invitation to rough play, when her nails dug sharply into his scalp, sanity came rushing back to Brady.  If he didn't stop this now, he would lose any small chance he might have with her.

Gently, Brady disentangled himself from her.  She looked at him with annoyance, and he understood then that she had planned the whole thing.  She had known exactly how to evoke every response she wanted from him.  She had wanted to seduce him, not only to keep her heart safe but also to make a fool out of him.  Swift rage filled Brady as he unceremoniously dumped her out of his lap, walking quickly away towards the only window in the room.  He opened the blinds and looked out, facing away from her so she wouldn't be able to see his still obvious desire for her.  "Did that make you feel any better, Acacia?" he asked, his voice shaking as he struggled to get control of his overpowering emotions.

Her eyes narrowed to slits as she hissed, "Yes!  You see?  You're exactly like the rest of them.  You're just too much of a hypocrite to take what you want.  You're pathetic, mister.  Oh, so self-righteous and heroic on the outside, when inside you're as much of a bastard as all the rest."  She saw by the way his jaw clenched that she had finally done it.  She had made him angry, angry enough to hit her or screw her.  Either way, it would end with him leaving, which was what she had convinced herself she wanted.

Brady jerked his head around to face her, his blue eyes glittering with rage.  "I never denied wanting you, Sapphire," he spat out.  She hid the stab of pain she felt when he called her by that name.  She knew it meant he had finally given up, he was finally looking at her like the rest of the world did.  It was what she had wanted.  So why did it hurt so terribly?

"I admitted from the beginning that I wanted you, but you use that desire that men have for you as a weapon," Brady went on, too angry to care if his words hurt her, hoping they did.  At the moment, he didn't want to see her as the victim.  "You twist something that should be beautiful into something that only corrupts and blackens the soul."

She glared at him, her eyes shooting a fire equal to his own.  "I never lied about what I was, mister," she returned defiantly.  "You're the one who tried to imagine me as someone else.  Well, I'm not.  I'm a whore, mister.  Get used to it.  That's what I do.  That's who I am."

Her words broke through Brady's rage.  He recognized them for what they were, an attempt to push him farther away.  "That's not who you are," he said softly.  "There's so much more to you than that."  He left his spot at the window and approached her, watching the anger in her eyes dissolve into fear.  He stroked her cheek with the back of his knuckles, the action devoid of lust and full of tender love.

She yanked away from his touch, unnerved by the way he was looking at her.  He looked at her as though he thought he knew her, and he didn't.  He didn't know a damn thing about her, and she had every intention of keeping it that way.  Believe what you want to, mister," she replied, with a failed attempt at indifference.  "It doesn't matter to me.  You'll realize the truth sooner or later."

"I already know the truth, Tempest," Brady countered, still looking at her in that unnerving way.  "The truth is that there are so many scars in your past that you're afraid to let anyone close.  You're afraid that I'll hurt you even more if you give me the chance.  You're afraid to let me understand your pain, afraid to leave yourself vulnerable like that.  But, beloved, you don't have to be afraid.  I'll make you see that.  Just give me time.  I love you, and I swear I'll never hurt you."

His words merely hit her ears and bounced off.  I love you.  She heard that every day.  _"Oh, Sapphire, I love you."  "Ooh, baby, I love you when you do that."  "I love how beautiful you are."  She had heard those words a million times in a hundred different ways.  This was just one more.  It didn't mean anything.  She laughed derisively.  "Love?  You've been watching too many old movies, mister.  Love doesn't exist.  'I love you' is just a phrase people use because it sound nicer than, 'Let's have sex.'"_

Brady studied her with pity.  How much hell had she been through to make her this jaded?  How could he possibly make a woman who'd seen only the darkest aspects of human nature understand that not everyone in this world was out to use and abuse her?  One thing was clear.  He wasn't going to get anywhere today.  "You're wrong, Acacia.  I'll prove it to you someday."  There was a determined look on his face that let her know he wasn't going to give up anytime soon.

She sighed in defeat.  Her wonderful plan had failed miserably.  He was just that much more intent on getting to her.  "I think you should go now," she decided, glancing at the clock.  His hour had been up ten minutes ago, and she hadn't even noticed.

Brady nodded, heading obediently towards the doorway.  She knew even before her stopped and turned towards her what he was going to say.  "Come away with me," he whispered, as he had every single day.  Was she not being clear enough in her refusals?

"No," she said, as resolutely as ever.  Why wouldn't he just quit asking?  And why did it get harder and harder to say no?  She expected him to say goodbye and leave as usual; but this time he lingered in the doorway for a moment, watching her.  She shifted uncomfortably.  Had he picked up on her growing doubts?  "Goodbye, mister," she prompted.

Instead of leaving, Brady leaned down and kissed her lips softly.  The kiss was tender, and like his earlier caress, saturated with love.  Alarmed, she tried to deepen the kiss, arouse his passion, and kill that disquieting gentleness.  But the moment she tried to take control, he pulled away.  Brady smiled at her obvious confusion.  That would give her something to think about until he saw her again.  "Goodbye, Tempest.  I'll see you tomorrow."

She shut the door behind him, breathing a sigh of relief that he was finally gone.  But he would be back tomorrow and the next day and the next, until she weakened and went away with him.  And then he would have all the power, and he would use it to hurt her.  That's what men did.  She had learned that a long time ago.  Filled with sudden resolve, she headed to the bathroom to take a quick shower, before she started packing.  The only way to assure herself of not falling victim to Brady Black was to get away before he had the chance to hurt her.  She was leaving Salem.  Tonight.

~~*~~

"I've had just about enough of it," Susan ranted to Mimi as the friends shopped for prom dresses together at the local mall.  "I mean, we're not even allowed to bring nail files to school anymore.  And now, these new security guards are watching us all day long.  Having to pass through metal detectors every time we enter our own school.  It's so humiliating.  We're being treated like common criminals.  Our civil rights are being violated, and I think we should do something about it."

"Uh-huh," Mimi agreed absently, not having heard a word out of Susan's mouth past "security guards."  She hadn't told Susan about her second encounter with the mysterious stranger and finding out that he worked at the school.  What was the point?  Susan would just laugh at her.  She almost couldn't help laughing at herself.  She had built up a whole romance in her mind with a man whom she'd had all of two brief conversations with and had been gawking at from a distance ever since.

"Hello!  Earth to Mimi.  Are you listening to me?"  Susan waved a hand in front of her best friend's face to snap her out of her trance.  She watched in mild annoyance as Mimi's eyes regained focus.  It was just one of those things you learned to deal with when your best friend had her head in the clouds half the time.  "Did you hear a single word I said?"

"Huh?  Um, of course I did," Mimi retorted defensively.  "You were talking about how you hate the tighter security at the school."  She smiled smugly, sure that for once she wasn't totally out of it.

"And…" Susan prompted.  Mimi just stared at her blankly.  Susan sighed, resigned to repeating herself.  "I asked if you'd be willing to sign a petition asking the school board to remove the security guards."

"No!" Mimi exclaimed, before she had the sense to stop herself.  Susan raised an eyebrow, staring at her in bewilderment.  Mimi blushed.  "Um, what I mean is, there's less than a month before graduation, so there's really no point.  Besides, I feel safer knowing they're there.  I don't mind the inconvenience.  Really."

Susan continued to eye her with suspicion for a moment, before shrugging the matter aside.  She would never understand the inner workings of Miriam Lockhart's mind.  "Okay," she relented.  "It was just an idea."  She surveyed the rows of prom dresses in front of her, before grabbing one and holding it in front of Mimi for effect.  "Oh, Meems, this one would look so great on you."

Turning around to see her reflection in one of the large store mirrors, Mimi admitted to herself that Susan might be right.  The bodice was a shimmering light-green, sleeveless with the exception of inch-wide shoulder straps that flowed into the V-shaped neckline.  The skirt of the dress was a rich emerald green satin that flowed elegantly down to the floor.  "Wow," she breathed, immediately falling in love with the dress.

"I'll say," Susan agreed, smiling, as she pulled out a sky blue dress for herself.  "Go try it on."

Mimi nodded, not even glancing at the pricetag.  Her parents had given her their credit card and told her to buy herself the most beautiful dress in the world, and this was most definitely it.  Once she had tried it on, she was even more convinced that it was made especially for her.  The green in the dress accentuated her eyes, and made them seem to dance with emerald fire.  If only she had the perfect date to go with the perfect dress.

She bought the dress and was waiting for Susan to find the one for her, when she caught sight of a familiar figure through the glass front of the store.  Her pulse raced at the sight of him.  Maybe this was her lucky day.  The luck of the Irish, as her mother would say.  Without taking time to think about the repercussions of her actions, Mimi practically ran out of the store and down the crowded passageway in the direction she had seen Mr. Right walking.

Mimi caught sight of his sandy blonde hair through the press of teenagers.  Even from the back, she'd recognize him anywhere.  He had a magnetic pull on her that surpassed human understanding.  She hurried after him, though restraining herself from actually running and bowling him over.  She had to admit the thought did cross her mind though.  

Finally, he stopped and went into a shoe store, giving Mimi the chance to catch up to him.  He was examining a pair of Nikes when she summoned all her courage and approached him, both hands clutched her garment bag impossibly tight.  "Hey," she managed to squeak out, her face flushing instantly.  Hey?  What kind of opening line was that?

He turned around then, flashing her that unforgettable smile she was already so addicted to.  "Hi," he said.  The sound of his voice made her heart turn cartwheels.  "Do you have this in a size ten?"  He held out the shoe for her examination.

Abruptly, Mimi's smile gave way and her blush deepened even further.  He didn't remember her.  He'd been her never-ending fantasy since the moment they met, and he didn't even remember her.  "Um…I don't know," she stammered.  "I don't work here."

He frowned at the crestfallen expression on her face.  "Oh, I'm sorry," he muttered, studying her intently.  Why had she come up to him if she didn't work here?  Did he know her?  Her face looked vaguely familiar, but he'd seen hundreds of teenage girls walk past him since he got that blasted job.  Their faces blurred together after awhile.  He couldn't be expected to actually remember them.  "Was there something you wanted?"

Mimi winced at the bemused tolerance in his voice.  She was nothing to him but a momentary annoyance.  _Nice going, Meems, she berated herself.  __Loser Lockhart does it again.  "No.  I just…I…well, I thought I knew you.  Sorry to bother you."  She turned to walk away._

"Hey, wait a minute," he called, his hand reaching out to grasp her arm lightly.  Mimi felt the touch flow all the way through her body.  Not caring anymore how much of a fool she made of herself, she turned around, her guileless eyes looking straight into his.  He dropped his grip on her arm as though she had burned him.  He had felt something he couldn't define at that moment, and he didn't think he wanted to feel it again.  But he suddenly remembered.  "I do know you, don't I?  I bumped into you my first day of work.  "You're…"  He paused for a minute, searching for a name.  The only thing that came to mind was Fifi, but he knew that wasn't right.  That girl was definitely no Fifi.

"Mimi Lockhart," she provided helpfully, her eyes twinkling with mirth as a bright smile lit up her face.  "At least it's good to know that I'm not entirely forgettable."  She laughed then, a light, melodic sound that briefly warmed his frozen heart.

Almost involuntarily, he smiled back at her.  She was the kind of person you couldn't help smiling at.  Like Belle had been.  The thought sobered him, and his face settled back into his habitual scowl.  "So, now that I remember you, Miss Lockhart, was there something you wanted?"

"Well, I…" Mimi ransacked her brain for a reasonable excuse for approaching him.  Damn her impetuosity.  It got her into way too much trouble.  Her mind drifted back to Susan's previously ignored words in a last ditch attempt to find something to say.  "I wanted a chance to thank you.  Ever since the school got that bomb threat earlier this year, I haven't felt safe coming to school.  But now, thanks to you, I feel wonderful.  I mean, I feel safe.  Coming to school, I mean.  Because of you.  Well, not just you, obviously.  The other guards, too."    Her brain had told her mouth to shut up a long time ago; but as usual, her mouth wasn't listening.  She could only listen in growing horror and embarrassment as she babbled on mindlessly.

He listened to her prattle on, torn between amusement and confusion.  Who exactly was this girl?  He'd never met anyone quite like her.  Was it some mental defect that made her go on this way?  But she seemed intelligent and sane enough.  He could only conclude that she was on some sort of sugar high or caffeine rush.  Nobody was that bubbly without outside stimulus.  At least no one he'd ever known.  He smiled reassuringly, noticing she seemed embarrassed.  "Well, thank you and you're welcome, I guess," he replied, not knowing what else to say.

Mimi smiled, content to simply be able to look at him and talk to him in reality for a change.  A sudden thought made her start alert, however.  "Oh, before I forget, I've been meaning to ask you, what's your—"

"There you are!" Susan exclaimed loudly, coming up behind Mimi and spinning her around.  Her bad temper seemed to have increased, despite the fact that she had found a dress too, judging by the bag she was carrying.  "I thought you were going to wait for me, and we were going to go shoe shopping together.  Why did you leave without telling me?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Su," Mimi apologized.  "I didn't even stop to think.  You know how I am.  Little Miss Scatterbrain.  Anyway, Susan, I want you to meet…"  She turned back around, only to find her mystery guy had disappeared again.  "Where did he go?"  She frantically looked in every direction for some sign of him.  He was gone.

"Where did who go?" Susan asked, staring at Mimi like she'd lost what was left of her already unstable mind.

"The guy.  My guy," Mimi cried nonsensically.  "The guy I told you about, remember?  The one I bumped into in school.  He was here.  I was talking to him.  Don't you see?  That's why I left you in the store.  I was following him."  She was verging on hysteria as she realized that after her third encounter with the man she was almost certain was her soulmate, she was still completely clueless about everything about him, even his name.

Susan's eyes widened in horror.  "Meems, don't tell me you've become like a stalker now?"  Mimi opened her mouth to defend herself, but Susan raised her hand to stop her.  "I said don't tell me.  I don't want to know.  You've got to get a grip, Mimi.  Now, come on.  Let's find some shoes."

~~*~~

Jason frowned as he watched Mimi Lockhart and her friend disappear into the back of the store.  He didn't know why he had left like that, except that there was something vaguely disquieting about her.  She made him feel something unidentifiable, something he didn't want to define.  Shaking his head, he tried to push her from his thoughts.  She was just another average teenage girl.  He chuckled at the obvious lie.  Nothing about that girl was average.  


	6. Chapter Six

The Power of a Name  
  
  
  
Chapter Six  
  
"Mom, come see my dress!" Mimi shouted as she rushed into the house, still ecstatic over the day's events. The only thing that could have possibly made it more perfect was if she'd finally found out her mystery man's name. But she was working on it.  
  
"Miriam, please don't shout," her father instructed, emerging from the kitchen. His normally jovial face was lined with worry. He seemed unaccountably stressed and irritable. "Your mother isn't home. She's picking up Conner from soccer practice."  
  
"Oh yeah, I forgot," Mimi said absently, studying her father with concern. "Is everything all right, Dad? You seem upset."  
  
"Everything's fine," David snapped. Mimi's eyes showed her surprise and hurt. Her father never used that tone of voice with her. Something was most definitely wrong, but she knew better than to press him. Her relationship with her father was undoubtedly better than that of most teenage girls, but they didn't talk and confide in each other the way she and her mother did.  
  
David massaged his temples, striving desperately for control. None of this was Mimi's fault after all. She was still the same sweet, loving, compassionate child she had been yesterday. He had no right to snap at her the way he had. "I'm sorry, honey. I've just had a bad day. It's not fair of me to take it out on you."  
  
"It's all right, Dad," Mimi consoled him brightly, giving him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. "I'm sorry you had a lousy day. Was it work?" Her father had been an accountant for the same company since before she was born. But she'd never seen him this stressed about it before, even during tax season.  
  
"I don't want to talk about it right now, honey," he answered in a clipped tone, as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and walked with her to the living room sofa. "But I could use some cheering up, so why don't you tell me about your day instead?" He could always count on his talkative, energetic daughter to lift his spirits.  
  
"Okay," Mimi agreed, flopping down lazily onto the couch. "School was okay. Mr. Meade's class was worst as always. I can't believe he laid a pop quiz on us today. Totally unfair, but I think I did all right. Kevin's still not talking to me." She frowned. That had been the one bleak spot in her life lately. She had never expected Kevin to take her rejection so hard or to be so petty about it. "I feel like I've lost my best friend."  
  
David gave her shoulders a comforting squeeze. "It's all right, honey. His ego will recover in time, and he'll remember how much he cares about you. And if he doesn't then he was never as good a friend as you thought he was." In which case, David would calmly go next door and kick that little punk's ass for hurting his baby girl.  
  
"You're probably right, Dad," Mimi sighed, before pushing thoughts of Kevin out of her mind. "Anyway, after school, Susan and I went shopping, and I got a dress for prom. You've just got to see it, Daddy. It's the most beautiful dress ever!" Without waiting for him to respond, she sprinted across the room and grabbed her shopping bags, quickly producing her treasure and holding it up to her for inspection. "See?"  
  
David smiled tightly. "It's beautiful, honey. How much did it cost?" he asked, approaching her and looking at the tag before she could say a word. He emitted a short, foul curse when he read the price. I'm sorry, Miriam. You have to take this back."  
  
Mimi's emerald eyes flooded with tears as she pulled the dress away from her father's reach. "But why?" she protested. "You said to get any dress I wanted. You said not to worry about the price. Why are you making me take it back now?"  
  
Her tears only had the effect of making David feel guiltier, and in turn more defensive. It wasn't like he didn't want her to have the dress. She deserved it. She deserved so much more. But that wasn't the issue here, and he couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth. Not yet. "Don't argue with me, Miriam Dulcea Lockhart. You can't have the dress, and that is final."  
  
"Fine. Take it," Mimi yelled, throwing the dress at him and racing up the stairs. She knew she was acting like a spoiled brat, but she didn't care. It wasn't about the dress—though she did love that dress—as much as it was about the fact that her father had lied to her. For the first time in her life, Mimi had been forced to recognize that her parents were fallible. And she didn't like that feeling at all.  
  
~~*~~  
  
Barb Rieber was nothing but a used-up old whore that no man would pay for anymore. But she was smart and business-savvy enough to own and run Salem's most notorious escort service. She trusted her girls up to a point, and the clients not at all. The only person she was entirely dependent upon was her muscle-bound, brain-lacking husband.  
  
Supposedly, they were partners; but Glen's role seemed mainly to consist of sitting around looking dangerous and serving as bouncer if the occasional John got out of hand. His other, less-discussed job was keeping the girls in line. He was the one who made sure none of them got too strung out to continue working. He extracted money from those who foolishly thought they could keep more than their share. He dealt with any unexpected developments that threatened to keep Barb's place from running smoothly.  
  
She had only had to deal with him once. She had made the mistake of snorting cocaine with Nicole one day and hadn't been able to work that night. As her most precious commodity, Barb was not pleased. She had sent Glen to make sure it never happened again. But after surviving the Phoenix, there was no torture Glen could devise that would have any effect on her. She had endured her punishment in stony silence and earned Glen's everlasting hatred in the process.  
  
But she didn't think of that as she made her way to Barb's office. She thought only of freedom. Perhaps it was an illusion, but it was the only one she had left. Barb's door was open; and she walked in, her face set, her gaze determined. No one and nothing was going to stop her from this.  
  
Barb looked up from her romance novel. She was immediately irritated when she saw who it was. "You should be resting, Sapphire," she ordered shortly. "You have a full night ahead of you; and for what these men pay, they deserve for you to be at your best."  
  
"I'm not working tonight," she replied, just as firmly. For once in her life, she wasn't going to let someone else tell her what to do.  
  
Barb's eyes narrowed as she dropped her book on the table. She had sensed for a while now that Sapphire thought too well of herself. Except for Nicole, she never intermingled with any of the other girls. She seemed distant and aloof even from the men who possessed her body. She thought herself above even her employers. It was time to put a stop to that right now. "What do you mean you're not working tonight? You work when I tell you to work. And that includes tonight. Just because you're more desired than the other girls doesn't change who you are. You're a whore, just like the rest of us. And you work for me."  
  
"Not anymore," she maintained solidly. "That's why I'm here. I quit. I'm leaving. Now. Or as soon as I get packed anyway." She didn't care what kind of fits Barb through. She had to be out of here tonight. She couldn't bear another session with Brady Black. She didn't have the strength for it.  
  
Barb tried to conceal her panic. She knew that whatever she may have said, there was something special about Sapphire. There was something about her that made men willing to pay any price to have her. If she left, most of Barb's business would go with her. She couldn't let that happen. "Okay, Sapphire. What do you want?" she asked coolly. "More time off? A higher percentage of the profits? Tell me; and if it's at all feasible, I'll get it for you."  
  
She shook her head. "All I want is what's mine. So give me my share from last week, and I'll be gone." She didn't really need the money. She had plenty saved, but she had learned from experience that one could never have too much money. Money bought freedom, freedom from having to work like this.  
  
"Where are you going?" Barb asked, stalling. She needed time to think, a way to make Sapphire stay. There was no way she was letting that girl go anywhere.  
  
She shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I just need to get away from here. I can't do this anymore. I can't." She let just the right amount of wounded vulnerability creep into her voice. It would work better with Barb than straight defiance. And she knew how to play people well.  
  
"You sound like you could use a vacation, dear," Barb empathized. Even as she spoke in the soft, motherly tone, her mind settled on a plan to keep Sapphire in her place. "All right, honey. You so on up and pack. I'll have to get the money from the safe. It will be sent up to you." Along with another little present Barb had in mind.  
  
"Thanks, Barb." She didn't bother correcting her about her vacation assumption. By the time Barb figured out that she wasn't coming back, she would be long gone. All in all, this was the easiest escape she'd ever made. She should have known it was too good to be true.  
  
~~*~~  
  
The knock on Mimi's door an hour later was followed by the door being opened slightly and her dress being waved several times from the crack. "I raise the green flag of surrender," Maureen joked as she made her way into the room.  
  
Mimi only glared darkly through her mother's lame attempt at humor. She was not about to let this go so easily. Her parents had lied to her, betrayed her. If they'd given her a spending limit, she would have followed it, as she'd obeyed every other rule they'd ever imposed on her. "I never even would have bought the stupid dress if you'd just told me not to spend that much," she complained.  
  
"It is a lovely gown," Maureen murmured, seemingly ignoring her daughter. She hung the dress up so that she could stand back and admire it. "And it would have suited you perfectly. You know, I might be able to make something like it." She surveyed the gown critically, with an artist's eye.  
  
Mimi only scowled. She didn't care how good a seamstress her mother was, no dress would ever compare to that one. Plus, she knew her mother was just trying to placate her. "Don't bother," she muttered ungraciously.  
  
Maureen faced her daughter then, lips pursed, hands on hips, the kind of expression on her face that let Mimi know she was in for it. Big time. "You know, Miriam, if you could look beyond your self-pity for one moment, you might realize that there's more to this than taking away your dress. Did you ever once stop to think about the possible reasons your father—who loves you and wants nothing more than to give you everything your heart desires—would deny you something you so obviously wanted? Did you even consider where he was coming from?"  
  
Mimi's face immediately showed her concern. She felt the full weight of her mother's reprimand. Something was seriously wrong. "What's the matter, Mom? Is something wrong with Dad? He'll be okay, won't he?"  
  
Maureen forgot her annoyance with Mimi when she saw the worry in her eyes. She took the space beside her on the window seat and wrapped her arm around her daughter's shoulders. "Honey, your father lost his job today."  
  
"What?" Mimi exclaimed, pulling away. "Why?"  
  
Maureen sighed, the stress and anxiety clearly written in the lines of her face. "His company has been in trouble for a long time, Mimi. He didn't want to worry you with it when you've been so busy with finals and graduation coming up. Plus, we kept hoping they'd bounce back. But today, they announced that they are closing your father's office."  
  
"Oh, Mom, I'm so sorry." She gave her mother a comforting hug. Her poor parents. They had had this hanging over their heads, in addition to having to worry about her graduation and the new baby coming. And she certainly hadn't helped matters with her bratty behavior today. "You should have told me. I never would have made such a fuss about the stupid dress."  
  
"You know your father. He's embarrassed about it. He's worked hard his whole life to take care of us; and now, it's like none of it meant anything at all." A frown marred Maureen's still youthful face. Twenty-two years of her life had been devoted to this man, this family. She had started to take certain things for granted.  
  
"It's not his fault!" Mimi protested earnestly. "The company folded. There's nothing he could have done. Besides, I'm sure with his experience he'll get another job in no time." Mimi's natural optimism was working to her advantage yet again. She saw her father's lack of employment as nothing but a temporary problem. Her family would get past it, as they got past every problem that confronted them.  
  
Maureen just nodded, unwilling to shatter her daughter's illusions. But there were realities that had to be faced. The town was in an economic downslide. Jobs were scarce. They had enough savings to live off for possibly three months. What if David hadn't found a job by then? What would happen to them? She knew she shouldn't stress about it. It wasn't good for the baby. But she was a mother, and worrying was part of the job description.  
  
Mimi read the despair on her mother's face, realizing that she didn't believe everything would be resolved so easily. "Mom, I promise it will be okay," she said, determination sparkling in her green eyes. "Whatever happens, we'll get through this together. As a family. Nothing will ever take that away from us. We'll always be a family."  
  
Maureen found herself smiling despite herself. She stroked Mimi's hair back lovingly. "You're right, honey. Forgive me. I let that thought slip away from me for a moment. You, your brother, and your father are my world. I'm so blessed to have a daughter like you."  
  
"Even when I'm being such a wretched brat?" Mimi grimaced as her eyes traveled to the green dress. "I'm sorry, Mom. I've behaved awfully today."  
  
Maureen's smile softened. "Nobody's perfect, Mimi. Even you are allowed to be less than angelic from time to time. Besides, there was no way you could have known about all this. And I am sorry about your dress. It would have looked beautiful on you."  
  
Mimi shook her head. "Don't worry about it, Mom. Honestly, I don't even see why I should go to prom. It's not like I have a date. I'd rather stay home with all of you. We'll have a family game night or something."  
  
"Miriam Lockhart, don't even try that," Maureen scolded. "You're going to your senior prom. If you don't you'll regret it for the rest of you life." Her daughter had the tendency of going to extremes. Sometimes it was a good thing, sometimes not. But always entertaining. And keeping Mimi at least partially grounded in reality was part of the job description. It was the most fulfilling job in the world.  
  
~~*~~  
  
"So it's really true," Nicole commented sadly, as she surveyed the scattered belongings in the room and the half-packed suitcase. "The girls said you were leaving, but I had to see for myself." There was an underlying tone of hurt and neediness to her words.  
  
"I'm sorry, Nicky," she said, abandoning her task to turn to the closest thing she'd had to a friend in years. "I just can't take it anymore. I've had my fill. If I don't get out now, I never will. But I'll miss you." She wondered if she really meant those words or just said them to comfort Nicole. She didn't think she was capable of caring enough about anyone to miss them.  
  
Nicole picked up one of the nightgowns on the bed, folding it while staring wistfully at the suitcase. "I understand," she whispered. "You've got to leave before you end up like me." The pain of a thousand lifetimes was reflected in Nicole's drug-dulled eyes.  
  
She laughed hollowly. "I'm a thousand times worse than you, Nicole. At least you still have a heart. At least they weren't able to take that away from you." She knew she shouldn't say things like that. They only gave Nicole an excuse to pry into her life. But she was leaving now, so it didn't matter anymore.  
  
Nicole frowned, watching as she stuffed things randomly into her bag. "So why are you leaving if you don't care? If you really believe like you say that there's no way out for us, why are you running away?" She purposely ignored Nicole as she threw the last of her CDs into the case and zipped it closed. "What are you so afraid of?"  
  
"Nothing," she snapped, rounding on Nicole with flashing blue eyes. "I'm afraid of nothing. It's just time for me to go. That's all. I have enough saved that I might not have to do this hideous job anymore, and I'm leaving while I have the chance." She didn't want to admit even to herself how terrified she was of Brady Black, afraid of the way he could hurt her, afraid he would be worse than the Phoenix.  
  
Nicole shook her head. "When you got here, you were running away from something. Or someone. That's not all that unusual. Most of us are. Did they finally catch up to you? Is that why you're going?" She studied the younger woman's face. Whatever she might say, Nicole knew that there was something driving her to this. Something more than just the whim of the moment.  
  
Her emotions immediately shut down. Nicole could spend the rest of her life guessing and still not approach the full truth. And she certainly wasn't going to tell her. "I told you why I'm going. If you don't believe me, that's your problem." She grabbed her purse, bag, and suitcase, intending to make a quick exit.  
  
Nicole put a hand on her arm, stopping her. "It's that man, isn't it?" she asked, with rare insight. She saw the other woman's eyes widen at the mere mention of him, before going carefully expressionless.  
  
"I don't know what you mean," she replied, inwardly cursing herself for letting Nicole get anywhere near her. "We see dozens of men each day. They're all the same. Men are all the same. I don't let myself care one way or the other." She took shelter behind the lessons she had spent a lifetime learning. They were truths, truths that kept her safe, that helped her survive.  
  
"Except that one," Nicole continued, knowing she had finally gotten through. "Brady, right? He told you his name, and he comes everyday, but he only talks. And you refuse to talk about him, but everyone else discusses him constantly. He is gorgeous, Sapphire. I've seen him coming and going." She looked at her friend with empathy and amusement. "You don't need to run away just because you're falling for him. It happens to all of us sometimes."  
  
"I'm not falling for him," she answered determinedly. She hated the bemused look on Nicole's face. "And quit looking at me like that. I'm not in denial or whatever you think this is. Okay, you want an answer? Yes, I'm leaving because of him. But not because I care about him, because he's too persistent. He wants too much. He wants it all. And I'll be damned before I give anyone that kind of power over me again. So I'm leaving. And don't you dare try to stop me."  
  
Shaking off Nicole's hand, she turned around ready to leave without her remaining cash. Let Barb keep it. She needed to get out of there. Now. Suddenly, she froze when she saw the frame in the doorway. Nicole turned too and visibly paled, seeming to shrink into nothing. Unlike Nicole, she refused to show fear. She honestly didn't feel any. Fear was for those who had something to lose. And she didn't. Not even her life held value to her. She was nothing but a cold, dead shell after all. "Hello, Glennie," she taunted with a cold smile. "Come to say goodbye, have you? How sweet."  
  
Glen's muscular frame towered over the two girls. Nicole cowered, throwing her a look of warning. She had to be out of her mind to goad him on that way. Glen's eyes shifted only momentarily from the dark-haired beauty to her less striking companion. "You. Out," he grunted in command.  
  
She laughed, a trilling, mocking sound that disturbed the tense silence of the room. "You really are a caveman, aren't you, Glennie?" She turned to Nicole, in a stance copying Glen's. "You heard the man, little woman. You. Out." The look in her eyes warned Nicole clearer than words could ever do to leave now before she got hurt. Nicole hesitated for a moment. How could she leave her friend alone to face this monster? "Nicky, go now. Please," she almost begged. Finally, Nicole nodded, slipping from the room with one last fearful glance behind her.  
  
Glen waited until Nicole had shut the door before approaching her menacingly. She refused to give an inch. "I suppose it would be too much to hope for that you're just here to give me my money?" she bit out caustically.  
  
The eyes that met hers were colder than ice. "I'm here to give you a message from Barb. You see, you're not allowed to leave unless she says so. And she says you're going to be staying around here for a real long time. But don't you worry. You'll get your vacation." He cracked his knuckles pointedly. "In fact, I'm going to make sure you get a nice long rest."  
  
She just stared at him, unmoved. Why should she care? It wouldn't be the first time she had been beaten. It wouldn't be the last. Unless…Maybe death was the only escape. She had been foolish to think she could run away from her life, but there was still one way out.  
  
She started to laugh, the shrill sound grating on Glen's ears. "What's so funny, bitch?" he demanded, shaking her roughly, which only made her laugh harder.  
  
"You," she gasped out, her laughter turning slightly hysterical. "You, Mr. Muscle Man. You're just so strong, aren't you? But Barb has you wrapped around her little finger. You're her lapdog. You're pathetic. A total joke. There's nothing you can do to hurt me."  
  
Her plan was working. She saw Glen's anger burning wildly in his eyes. "Oh no?" he gritted out, throwing her against the wall with all the strength he possessed. She crumpled to the floor, the wind knocked out of her. "I wouldn't be so sure about that, you little whore." He picked her up again, by her gorgeous dark hair, waiting for her to react. When she didn't, he slapped her hard enough to open a gash on her cheek.  
  
As soon as she could breathe again, she began to laugh, giving herself completely over to the madness. Let him hurt her. Let him beat her. Let him kill her. He was already too late to take away anything important anyway. Everything inside her that might have been worth anything had died a long time ago or been stripped from her at the hands of men worse by far than the one before her. "Is that the best you can do?" She continued to defy him.  
  
With a roar of rage, Glen lost all control, determined to stop her laughter, whatever it too. He turned on her with all the fury of a wild beat set loose. As strange lights danced before her eyes, she smiled in bleak satisfaction. Perhaps she had finally gotten what she wanted. 


	7. Chapter Seven

The Power of a Name

**Chapter Seven**

_"See the weeds, darling?" she said, tears in her eyes.  "You've got to pull them out."  Her tears were the undoing of him, as they always had been.  He knelt in their once perfect, green meadow and began to pull out the hideous brown weeds.  The plants dug into his hands, leaving gashes and cuts which bled freely down his arms.  But her voice urged him on, compelling him to continue.  "That's it, my love.  Pull them out.  Destroy the roots.  It has to be done."_

_He pulled and yanked and tore until the sweat rand down his face, chest, and back in glistening rivulets.  His hands were rubbed raw and still he pulled.  The weeds were less dense now, and he could see through them.  There was something solid and grey hidden amongst them, and he headed towards it, pulling out the remaining weeds as he went.  Finally, he could see clearly what it was.  He backed away in horror, shaking his head.  "I can't look."_

_"You have to, Jason," she said softly, sadly.  "It's what has always been at the bottom of the weeds.  You have to face it, sooner or later."_

_"No!" he cried vehemently, turning around and reaching out to his Belle, but she was gone.  She had left him, and so had the light.  He turned around frantically, searching for any escaped; and then, he saw it.  There was no hiding from it.  It was the only thing visible in the darkness.  The words burned until they were branded into his heart and mind forever.  _

**_Isabella Black_**

**_1981-2000_**

**_Beloved daughter, sister, and friend_**

**_"She runs barefoot through the meadows of heaven."_**

****

_The beautiful epitaph and intricately carved angels on the block of stone did nothing to take away from its true purpose.  The gravestone he had never wanted to see, that he'd been running away from for so long had finally found him.  It was his undoing.  Jason fell to his knees in front of the despised headstone, sobbing uncontrollably.  Great, heaving wails of pain with the realization that his Belle was never coming back to him._

_Suddenly, he was falling through the darkness.  And as he fell, reaching out desperately for anything to hold onto, he saw every selfish, stupid thing he'd done since the moment he'd run away from Salem.  He saw the drinking.  He saw the anger and the pointless fights.  He saw that woman.  He was screaming, screaming he was sorry, screaming for the chance to make it right, screaming for mercy.  But he just kept falling, clawing the air for something to hold onto.  But there was nothing.  Nothing._

_"Here.  Let me help you."  A soft hand had reached through the darkness to grab his hand.  He was dangling over a bottomless pit of misery and despair, and only that hand stood between Jason and nothingness for all his days.  A small, feminine hand that shouldn't have been strong enough to hold him for even a few minutes.  But still, she kept an iron grip on him.  _

_Who was she?  Her hand was all that was visible, but he had the feeling he'd heard that voice before.  "Belle?" he rasped out hopefully._

_"No, my love.__  Let me help you."  The sweet voice echoed in his mind incessantly until it grated like the roar of sirens.  She wasn't Belle.  She wasn't his love.  With a hoarse cry of outrage, he pulled his hand free and began to fall again.  No life at all was better than a life without Belle…._

Jason awoke with a jump as he tried to stop himself from falling.  Groaning, he rubbed a hand over his face.  If these dreams didn't stop soon, they'd drive him insane.  This last one was the worst so far.  He could still see the inscription of that headstone when he closed his eyes.  "Belle," he whispered miserably.  She was slipping away from him.  He could feel it.  He couldn't remember the precise tone of her laughter anymore.  The exact shade of blue in her eyes was lost to him.  In a way, he almost welcomed the dreams, wretched as they were.  At least in his dreams, Belle lived on, complete in every way.

Trying to push thoughts of her aside, Jason looked at the clock.  He still had hours before work started.  But he couldn't go back to sleep, not the way his heart was pounding now.  Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he sat up, resting his head in his hands for a moment.  This migraine hadn't gone away for a week now.  He was just glad the shaking had stopped.  He hadn't realized how dependent on alcohol he had become until he quit drinking.  He didn't miss it though, well, except for its blessed numbing qualities.

Jason threw on a pair of sweats and slipped into his running shoes.  In the lack of other options, he had taken to literally running away from his problems lately.  If he ran long enough and hard enough, he could sometimes make himself too exhausted to think about her or the wreck he had made of his life.  Sometimes.

He felt better the moment he felt a blast of icy pre-dawn air on his face.  It cleared his head and allowed him to think—or not think—about whatever he pleased.  Jason set a fast pace for himself as he started down the path by the river.  He wasn't out for a leisurely morning jog.  He wanted to push himself to the very limits of his endurance, to run until his brain would be too deadened to think.  Perhaps it wasn't possible, but it was either that or drown himself in a bottle somewhere.

When Jason began to run only the slightest tinge of gray on the skyline marked the approach of day.  He ran, unheeding of the time or the gradual lightening of the sky.  He had long since ceased to care about things like watching the sunrise, if he had ever cared at all.  It wasn't some newfound sense of the wonder of life that made Jason finally come to a stop as the sun made its way over the horizon.  He hadn't been bewitched by the beauty of the sight or stricken with some deep, spiritual epiphany.  No, he was just out of breath.  

Jason sank to the still damp grass of the park and inhaled deeply, painfully.  He needed to rest a minute before an equally strenuous run back to his hotel room to shower and get ready for work.  As his breath slowly came back to him, Jason finally noticed the sunrise.  He only thought fleetingly that it seemed unusually bright before his eyes continued to wander.

There weren't many people in the park at this hour of the morning.  Only a few other joggers out for a run before work.  Jason's eyes caught on one person who stood out from the rest, merely because she wasn't running anyplace.  She was standing next to the river's edge watching the sky.  He felt instant recognition for her, though it took him a minute or two to place her as the crazy girl from the shoe store.  At that moment, she bore little resemblance to the ditzy, bubbly teenager he had taken her down for then.

She was standing completely still, her gaze never wavering from the spot where the sun was ascending into the sky.  Jason felt an emotion surprisingly like envy course through him as he watched her.  The expression on her face was so peaceful, so content, so innocent.  He'd never known anyone who exuded that kind of innocence and idealism.  Not even Belle.  

Jason heard the warning bells go off inside his brain the moment he compared her to Belle.  There was no comparison to Belle.  His Belle was—had been, he reminded himself with a wince—perfect.  He didn't stop to analyze the momentary peace that had invaded his soul as he watched the girl.  It had been a weird morning all around.  And the farther away he stayed from Mimi Lockhart, the better off he'd be.  Forcing himself to tear his eyes away from her, Jason got to his feet and started to jog back to his hotel.  It didn't even occur to him that he'd found something else to run away from.

~~*~~

Mimi felt rather than saw someone watching her.  But she didn't feel fear like she normally would have.  She couldn't explain the feeling even to herself, but she knew she was in no danger.  Whoever it was, they weren't someone to be afraid of.  She waited a moment, soaking in the last few brief moments of the sunrise.  This had been a daily ritual for years, ever since those horrid days of early adolescent angst.  Her mother had told her to find someplace that was just hers where she could take a moment to let everything sink in, to sort out anything and everything that was bothering her.  And she'd never needed it more than lately.

By the time the sun had risen and Mimi abandoned her meditative reflection, whoever had been watching her was gone.  She frowned, wondering who it could have been, before she shrugged it off.  She had enough things to think on and stress over without creating new problems in her mind.  Between graduation coming up and her father losing his job and her parents expecting another baby, she had a lot to wrap her mind around.  It seemed like everything in her life was changing all at once.  More than that, it felt like she was on the brink of a new beginning.  And she could only hope that new life included _him._

~~*~~

Brady could sense something was wrong the moment he walked in that morning.  There was something in the air that was more oppressive even than usual.  Every time before when he'd come here, the lobby had been deserted, except for the madame of the brothel and the glowering bouncer.  Today, a group of girls had gathered in one corner of the room and were talking in hushed tones.  Brady looked, but she wasn't there.  A knot began to form in his gut.

The women abruptly quieted when they saw him enter.  A haggard-looking blonde with a bad dye job looked ready to approach him; but she stopped suddenly, her eyes widening in fear as her gaze locked on something behind him.  Or rather someone.  Brady picked up on the signal and turned around, coming face to face with Barb's brutish sidekick.  He looked even more pissed off than usual.

"Get out," he growled.  "Now."  His hands clenched and unclenched reflexively several times with the desire to take out some of his frustration on the pretty boy in front of him.  

Brady stood his ground, unflinching in the face of Glen's anger.  "I'm not going anywhere until I see Sapphire," he declared firmly.  He couldn't have said how he knew this involved her somehow.  He just knew.  And he wasn't about to leave until he knew that she was all right.

Glen seemed ready to let loose the demons within him again.  Seeing this, Barb immediately stepped between the two men.  There was a world of difference between Glen going off on a common prostitute and assault on a wealthy patron.  "I'm sorry, sir," she said smoothly to Brady.  "Sapphire is occupied at the moment.  Perhaps one of the other girls…"  She gestured broadly to the women gathered around, watching with curiosity and a touch of fear.

Brady ignored the odious woman in front of him and kept his gaze concentrated on the gigantic oaf behind her.  "I'll wait," he said coldly.  "How much longer will she be?"

Barb shifted nervously caught in her lie.  "Well, after this client leaves, Sapphire will need her rest.  I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave now."  There was a note of command in her voice, and she looked pointedly back at Glen.

Brady was ready to continue the fight, to know where she was when he noticed that same blonde woman who had started to approach him earlier had made her way behind Barb and Glen and was gesturing and mouthing for him to meet her outside.  He nodded imperceptibly and turned his attention back to the despicable pair in front of him.  "I'll be back," he warned them.  "And I won't give up until I've seen her."  Without waiting for their response, he quickly left the building, eager to know what the woman had to tell him.

Once outside, Brady wondered what he was supposed to do.  It hardly seemed likely that Glen and Barb would just let her follow him out the front doors.  Drawn by instinct, he walked towards the small alley to the left of the building.  He leaned against the wall and waited to see if she would make an appearance.  He was starting to think the whole thing was just a ploy to get him out of the building when the side door opened and she slipped out, careful to prop the door open so that it wouldn't lock behind her.

Her cloudy blue eyes rested on him with a wary, trust, like she had no other choice.  "You're Brady Black," she said finally, in a low tone.  It wasn't a question, just a statement of fact.

Brady nodded curtly.  "You know who I am.  Mind if I ask who you are?"  He doubted she was the kind of person he would normally trust either.  But she had taken a risk in meeting with him, and he had to hope that meant something.

"Nicole," she said, quickly and quietly.  Her eyes rarely remained focused on one spot more than a second or two.  She was nervous, jumpy.  Afraid.  "I'm a friend of Sapphire's.  That's all you need to know about me."  Her eyes finally rested on his face, searching it intently.  Brady stood quiet and still through her perusal.  "She doesn't trust you, but I don't a lot of options at the moment.  She'll die if she stays here.  You'll be good to her, won't you, Mr. Black?"

Brady's face registered his alarm as well as his resolve.  "Of course, Nicole.  But what's going on?  What happened?  Why is she in danger?"

Nicole leaned closer to him, her voice barely audible, as if she was afraid even the walls had ears.  "Glen beat her up last night, mister.  Real bad.  And they won't take her to the hospital, 'cause they're afraid of being arrested.  But I'm worried about her, mister.  It's worse than just the bruises.  There's something inside, I think.  She needs a doctor.  You'll take her to one, won't you?"

Brady's whole body was rigid with rage.  If Glen was here now, he'd kill him.  That was that.  "Take me to her," he gritted out.  "I'll get her out of here.  I promise you that.  She'll be safe."

Nicole sighed, feeling relief rush over her.  Whatever Sapphire might think, this was a good man.  One of very few.  She laid a hand on his chest to stop him before he could rush up the stairs.  "One more thing, mister.  Once she's better, don't let her come anywhere near her.  Ever.  Glen will kill her."

Brady nodded, his fist unconsciously clenching.  He'd be damned before he ever let Glen so much as look at her again.  "Where is she?" 

"She's in her room," Nicole told him, shaking her head sadly.  "But you're going to have to be careful moving her.  I think some of her ribs are broken and—"

Brady didn't wait to hear the rest.  He charged up the back staircase, actually hoping he did run into Glen.  It would feel really good to give that bastard everything he deserved.  But he reached her door uncontested and took a few breaths to calm himself before opening the door.  Silently, he made his way to her bedside.  The room was unnaturally dark with the curtains drawn.  It took Brady's eyes a moment to adjust to the dim lighting.  When they did, he couldn't withhold the gasp that jumped to his lips at the sight before him.

The girl who just yesterday could have been counted as one of the most beautiful in the world was now lying on the bed, battered beyond belief.  Her face was barely recognizable, covered in bruises, lumps, and gashes.  She had a broken nose, two black eyes, and her arms above the sheets were proof that the damage wasn't confined to her face alone.  "My God," he breathed, horrified, as he knelt by her side.  How could anyone have done this to another human being?  He stroked back her long, silky hair, the only part of her left untouched by the beating.  

She stirred restlessly and winced, pain shooting throughout her entire body.  Yet the hand touching her was soft, caressing.  She reluctantly let her eyes flutter open.  Damn.  Why wasn't she dead?  That was all she had wanted yet here she was, still alive, still suffering, still trapped in this despicable hellhole.  She didn't even bother trying to recognize the person by her side.  It didn't matter.  Nothing mattered.

"Beloved," a soft, deep voice said.  There was something familiar about the voice, but who was he?  And who the hell was he talking to?  It couldn't be her.  No one talked to her with that kind of gentleness in their voice.  "It's me.  Brady.  I'm here.  It's going to be all right now.  How are you feeling?"

Brady.  Great.  Of all the people who could be by her side, it had to be that lunatic.  She'd even rather it be Glen come to finish her off.  She let out a string of the foulest words she knew to let him know what she thought of him being here.  

Brady chuckled softly.  "At least your tongue doesn't appear to be damaged."  However, seeing her the way she was made frivolity impossible to maintain.  He rubbed a strand of her hair between his fingers.  "It's time now, Tempest.  Come away with me."

She groaned.  What was the point of fighting anymore?  He'd win sooner or later.  Men always did.  She couldn't even die and escape it.  She laughed hollowly, even though another spasm of pain was her only reward.  "Sure, mister," she managed to grit out.  "You want me?  You got me.  Lucky you."

Brady only laughed quietly as he pulled back the covers and lifted her easily into his arms.  He tried to spare her as much pain as possible, but he could still see her biting back cries of pain.  "I'm sorry, beloved.  It will all be over soon."  He carried her out of the room and down the back stairs to his waiting car.  She didn't reply.  Speaking too much effort.  But she knew better.  It would never be over.  Never.

~~*~~

Brady saw Craig Wesley emerge from the OR and hung up his cell phone.  "How is she, Dr. Wesley?" he asked frantically.  He hadn't had a moment's peace since he had brought her into the hospital and she'd been rushed into the operating room.

Craig poured himself a cup of coffee, releasing a tired sigh.  "She'll be fine, thanks to you."  He offered Brady an exhausted smile.  "We managed to stop the internal bleeding just in time.  If you brought her in twenty minutes later, she wouldn't have made it.  As it is, she'll have one hell of a long recovery.  A broken arm, two broken ribs.  Given the beating she took, she's lucky to be alive.  She's in recovery right now.  With the pain medication I have her on, she'll be in and out of it a lot the next few days.  I want to keep her here for observation for a few days."

Brady released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.  "Thank you, Dr. Wesley," he responded, shaking Craig's hand and grinning like an idiot.  "Thank you so much.  For everything you've done."

Craig surveyed Brady closely.  As a friend of Marlena and John and as Belle's physician, he had once known Brady Black well.  But ever since the deaths of his family members, the young man had been acting increasingly eccentric, hiding like a hermit in the mountains.  And now, he was back in Salem, and apparently enamored of the town's most disreputable woman.  "Brady," he said slowly, unsure where to begin.  "I heard what you told the police about her pimp or whatever he is beating her up, but how exactly do you fit into all this?  Obviously, your personal life is none of my business; but you seemed to have formed some sort of attachment to this woman, and I'm just wondering…"  He trailed off, leaving the question unspoken.

"I love her, Dr. Wesley," Brady replied abruptly, not bothering to mince words.  He saw Craig's disgusted wince but chose to ignore it.  "I know everything you're going to say, but don't bother.  I'm not crazy, and this isn't about sex.  I know who and what she is, and I don't care.  I love her.  And I'm going to take care of her."

Unable to meet Brady's steady, clear gaze, Craig looked over the chart in his hand.  Brady had committed himself to pay for her care and filled out her forms.  But virtually every blank was filled with 'unknown.'  "At least you know her name," Craig muttered as he saw the name Amanda Black on the file heading.  He did a double-take.  "Wait a minute!  'Black'?  Have you married this girl, Brady?"

Brady's blue eyes were focused and unflinching as he replied, "Not yet.  But before she leaves this hospital, I'm going to."  And as Craig studied the determined man before him, he knew better than to doubt a word out of his mouth.


	8. Chapter Eight

The Power of a Name

**Chapter Eight**

A soft hand was stroking her hair, and an even softer voice was calling her back from unconsciousness.  Her mind still felt blurry, and it took her more than a few minutes to remember everything that had happened.  She couldn't make her eyes open.  They felt like huge rocks protruding from her face.  Still, considering the beating she had taken, she felt surprisingly little pain.  Oh, the wonders of modern medicine.  She was ready to go back to sleep, until the voice spoke again.

"Tempest, can you hear me?"

"I told you, Brady.  She's going to be in and out of it a lot due to all the painkillers she's taking.  This isn't the time to do this.  It's barely even legal!  She can get an annulment in an instant."

It took all of her concentration to follow their words, and she still didn't understand what they were talking about.  Though she was a little better off.  At least now she knew who they were.  That lunatic Brady Black was still here.  Why the hell wouldn't he just leave her alone?  She felt no gratitude towards him for saving her life, only annoyance.  The other man was one of the doctors she vaguely recollected from when Brady had brought her here.

"Then, that's her right," she heard Brady say.  There was an iron quality in his tone that she'd never noticed before.  It frightened her, as so many things about him did.  "But I'm getting her out of here, Dr. Wesley.  She's going to be safe.  After that, it's up to her.  All the paperwork is ready.  I just need her consent."  

What was he talking about now?  She couldn't figure it out through the fog in her brain.  She finally managed to pry her eyelids open the slightest distance.  She still couldn't truly see much except blurry shapes and that damn fluorescent lighting.  "You're awake."  The joy in Brady's voice grated on her nerves.  She wasn't even glad to be alive, let alone awake.  

Her hand was gently encased in his; and he raised it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the smooth skin.  She wished she had the strength to pull away.  As it was, she couldn't find the energy to do much of anything.  "Beloved, I want you to marry me."

Her laughter was dry and hollow at Brady's earnest, quiet words.  "Oh, sure," she bit out sarcastically, even though it hurt like hell to speak.  

Apparently, Brady chose to ignore the sarcasm in her tone however, because the next thing she knew a third man was in the room along with Nicole to serve as a second witness.  They'd been waiting in the hall.  While she was trying to overcome her shock, Nicole bent down beside her.  "Hey, honey.  You're gonna be fine.  He's going to take real good care of you.  I hope you don't mind.  I gave him your birth certificate, everything he needed.  Found them in your stuff.  Just think, Sapphire, you've got a chance to start over.  See?  Like you wanted."

She only shook her head in mute disagreement.  This wasn't what she wanted at all.  But there was nothing she could do about it.  That man would control her life now, as she'd sworn no man would ever do to her again.  Then, the stranger began to speak; and she heard the words of the wedding ceremony as if from far away.  The drugs were starting to kick in again, leaving everything hazy and indistinct.  She barely heard Brady pledge her life to her.

And then, the priest was speaking to her, only he wasn't really.  He called her be that damned name.  Sapphire DiMera.  She chuckled bitterly.  This didn't really mean anything after all.  Nicole had given Brady the only proof of identification she had, but it wasn't real.  It was forged.  Fake.  Like everything else about her life.  Like this marriage.

She was still following that thought when the pastor prompted her to say 'I do.'  The deadness of her laugh made its way into the heart of every person witnessing the unorthodox service.  "Sure.  Why not?" was the only answer she gave.  It didn't matter what she said, what she did.  There was no escape for her.  The blessed state of unconsciousness drifted over her again, drowning out the rest of the ceremony.  She didn't feel Brady slip his mother's wedding ring onto her finger.  She didn't feel the slight pressure of his lips on her forehead when the priest declared he could kiss his bride.  

~~*~~

For some reason, unknown even to himself, Jason headed to the park again every afternoon after work that week.  He had seen that Lockhart girl no less than a dozen times at school over the last three days.  He wasn't even consciously looking for her.  She was just there.  What made her stand out so much?  There were thousands of kids in that school.  Why did he keep running into her?

He told himself that she had nothing to do with his decision to make a daily run through the park.  In fact, Jason convinced himself that the only reason he was running there was that the odds of her being there in the afternoons, when he had seen her in the morning, were slim to none.  But he refused to analyze the reason behind his suddenly slower pace once he had reached the vicinity where he had seen her a few days prior.  He reassured himself that he always studied the faces of other people when he ran, always made copious mental notes about his surroundings.  It had nothing whatsoever to do with Mimi Lockhart.

~~*~~

"So has your dad found a new job yet?" Susan asked, as she and Mimi ate their ice cream sundaes while watching their little siblings play together.

"Not yet.  But it's only been a few days, Susan," Mimi pointed out, mildly irritated.  Why couldn't Susan ever just enjoy the good things in life?  Why was she in a constant effort to bring Mimi down?  "Listen, I don't want to talk about it right now.  Let's just soak in this beautiful day."  She looked around her, savoring the laughter of children, the sweet smell of the woods, and the roar of the river.  She loved the park.  It was such a blessed reprieve from…everything.

"That was a killer final Mr. Meade gave us," Susan remarked glumly.  

Mimi groaned and rolled her eyes.  "Yes, it was.  And now, it's over.  All our finals are over, and we won't find out how well we did until at least Monday.  So there's no use sitting around being little miss Eeyore all weekend.  I personally plan on having a great time.  Think about it, Su.  We've done it!  In a matter of weeks, we'll graduate and put high school behind us forever.  So let's make the most of this time, okay?"

"Do you suppose you'll still be able to go to Europe this summer, what with your dad and everything?"

Mimi jumped off the bench, throwing her ice cream away and raising her hands in surrender.  "I give up!" she cried in frustration.  "Enjoy your lovely little rain cloud, Su.  I'm going to go play with the kids.  At least they still remember how to have fun."  She skipped off brightly, ignoring Susan's mutterings about childishness and the need to grow up.  Mimi didn't feel like growing up today.  She felt like being a kid.  She had so little time left to enjoy it.

"Hey, Connor!" Mimi called up to her rambunctious brother as he dangled from the top of the monkey bars.  "Wanna play hide and seek?"  Within minutes, Mimi had rounded up most of the neighborhood children to play with them.  They had even dragged Susan out of her funk enough to agree to count first.

By the time Mimi had made sure that the kids were all scampering off in the right directions, Susan was almost done counting.  Too competitive to just let herself be caught, Mimi ran as fast as she could towards the path by the river.  She knew the perfect hiding spot by the embankment.  She laughed merrily at her own foolishness as she neared her destination.  She loved the feeling of the fresh air in her lungs and the warm spring sun on her back.  She just loved life.

And then, right as she cleared the wood and stepped onto the path, she found herself colliding with someone and falling backwards onto the dirty ground.  "Oh, here.  Let me help you up.  Are you okay?" came a familiar voice, as she saw his hand extended out towards her.  She laughed nervously and then flushed bright red when he had lifted her up, and she found herself confront by a bare muscular chest.  He laughed too, and she was instantly enchanted by the sound.  "Don't you have that sudden feeling of déjà vu?"

Mimi smiled as she too was struck by the similarity to their first meeting.  "Maybe someone's trying to tell us something," she responded, only half-joking, if at all.  Inwardly, she was thanking God and all the angels for giving her yet another sign that this was meant to be.  

He frowned suddenly, and she wished she knew what he was thinking.  Had she said something wrong?  But as quickly as the mood had come upon him, he shrugged it off.  "Maybe you're just being warned to slow down," he teased.  "Does this happen to you often, Miss Lockhart?"

He remembered her name!  She barely restrained herself from literally jumping for joy.  He hadn't forgotten her this time.  Mimi was so struck by hearing him call her by name—even by surname—that she almost forgot to reply.  "Er…um…not really," she stammered.  "Just around you apparently.  Think that means anything?"

Again, she felt him withdraw from her, without knowing the reason.  Mimi frowned.  Her and her big mouth.  What had she done wrong now?  "So then there's no reason you were running like a banshee through the woods?" he asked finally, as Mimi saw the black expression on his face melt away.

She giggled, blushing a deep crimson.  She hated his ability to make her feel like a child, and she knew her answer would only confirm her that way in his eyes.  "Well, um, actually, I'm playing hide and seek with my little brother and his friends."  Even knowing how foolish that would make her sound.  Mimi was incapable of lying to him.

"Hide and seek, huh?"  He grinned down at her.  She looked so adorable when she was embarrassed.  There was something about her that called to him.  While it should have been easy to write her off as an immature child, it wasn't.  She still carried with her the freedom and innocence of a childlike spirit, but she was without a doubt a woman.  And it was the purity of the woman's heart that kept drawing him back towards her.  A purity he was sure had died with his Belle…

Mimi couldn't believe it.  There wasn't the slightest hint of derision in the tone of his voice or the look in his eyes.  In fact, he looked almost…wistful?  She had the uneasy feeling that he wasn't seeing her anymore, even though his eyes ere glued to her face.  He was thinking of someone else, and the thought was giving him pain.  Without taking time to analyze the situation any further, Mimi did what she felt compelled to do.  She timidly reached up and put a hand to his cheek, offering him wordless comfort for whatever it was that tortured him so.

Jason stood frozen in shock for a moment, unnerved her gentle caress.  As the reality of concerned green eyes replaced the vision of loving blue ones, he saw the honest care in Mimi's face.  How had she been able to see his pain so easily, without him even saying a word?  It confused and unsettled him.  In his entire life, no one had been able to clearly read Jason Master.  Not even Belle, and she had known him better than anyone.  And yet, this virtual stranger, who didn't even know his name, let alone the details of his past, had in one moment memorized his soul.

They stood like that for untold moments, frozen in time as silent communion passed between their hearts.  Mimi was sure her heart was beating loud enough that even he must hear it, especially when it gave an added jump when his hand rose up and covered her own on his cheek.  Even though she had convinced herself they were soulmates after their very first meeting, Mimi hadn't quite comprehended how powerful that connection between them was until that moment.  It was as if every single nerve and fiber of her body were winding themselves together with all that was him, fusing one being where once there were two.  

"Meems!  Where are you?  This isn't funny!"  Susan's calls broke the spell of the moment.

As if waking from a dream, he shook his head and pulled himself bodily away from her touch.  Mimi let her hand fall limply back to her side, disappointed at his emotional as well as his physical abandonment of her.  Unshed tears swam in her eyes as she begged him wordlessly to make her understand.  He took another step back from her and caught sight of the friend looking for her.  With a silent, grim wave back in Mimi's direction, Jason took off, knowing now for a fact that Mimi Lockhart was the greatest threat to his vow to Belle's memory.

"There you are!" Susan exclaimed with a mixture of relief and irritation as she found her friend standing on the path in plain sight, gawking at a disappearing jogger.  "Have you been here all this time?"

Mimi nodded blankly, before forcing herself back to attention.  "Huh?" she remarked intelligently to Susan.  Inwardly, she found herself fuming once again at her best friend's bad timing.  "Oh hey, Su.  Sorry.  I ran into someone I know.  Anyway, how's the game going?  Are you still it?  Seen Connor anywhere?"

Susan eyed Mimi's guilty face with suspicion.  Whenever Mimi was hiding something, her face turned that peculiar shade of red and she started rambling nonsensically.  "Who exactly did you run into, Meems?" she asked pointedly.  Seeing even more color creep into her friend's cheeks, Susan groaned.  "Oh please!  Not again with this mystery guy, Mimi.  It's just not healthy, girl."

Mimi rolled her eyes.  "As opposed to your lifelong yet never voice love for Kevin?" she countered, tired of Susan's hypocritical lectures.  "Or Kevin's obsession with me?  Yeah, Su, those sound perfectly sane and logical to me.  I'm sorry to disappoint you, but this isn't some passing crush.  I love this man, Susan, with all my heart."

Susan crossed her arms and raised her brow imperiously.  "'This man', Mimi?  Please tell me you at least bothered to learn his name this time?"

Mimi paled.  "Damn!"  She knew she'd forgotten something.

~~*~~

_Her mama's voice raised in anger pulled the child from sleep.  She pushed off her covers and got out of bed, her deep blue eyes wide with fright.  In all her seven years, she'd never heard Mama sound so out-of-control.  There was another voice too, one she didn't recognize.  She crept to her bedroom door, small bare feet padding almost silently over the worn carpet.  She knelt down by the crack in the doorway, her eyes worriedly assessing the situation._

_Mama's frame was instantly recognizable, even with her back turned.  She recognized the other person too, from a picture she had found once before Mama took it away from her.  The tall, stately, gray-haired man was her grandfather, even though she'd never met him.  Mama said he was a very bad man; and looking at his huge form as he towered over Mama, his face purple with rage, she could believe it.  She shuddered, and it wasn't from the cold.  What was he doing here?_

_She and Mama had a nice life all alone in their tiny little apartment.  They took care of each other, because she didn't have a daddy.  She'd never had one, and never thought much about it.  When she had first started school and seen the other children with their daddies, she'd asked Mama about it.  But Mama said not to worry about it.  Lots of little girls didn't have daddies and were better off for it, Mama said.  _

_Besides, she was happy the way things were, even though Mama had to work almost all the time.  She had to stay with the old couple in the apartment next door while Mama was working.  She didn't mind.  Mrs. Lane always kept everything clean and pretty; and Mr. Lane liked to listen to opera.  She liked opera, too.  She'd sit in his lap for hours, just listening to the music.  Sometimes, she even sang along.  Mr. Lane liked that.  He said she had a beautiful voice and that, given time and training, she could be a great soprano someday._

_She had told Mama once that she wanted to be a singer when she grew up.  Mama had just smiled in that sad way of hers.  Mama always looked sad, even when she said she was happy.  Except she didn't look sad now.  She looked furious.  Mama had never been so angry before.  Not even when she had broken one of Mama's crystal prisms.  Mama loved prisms.  She liked to fill the room with them, so that on sunny days the whole apartment shimmered with rainbows._

_"I refuse to let you do this, Nancy," her grandfather's voice boomed, scaring the child even more as she curled up by the door.  "You'll destroy a good man's reputation if you persist."_

_Mama's laughter was cold and heartless.  It pierced her heart.  Why was Mama laughing like that?  Why would anyone laugh like that?  "A good man?  Oh, I suppose you have to make yourself believe that, don't you, Father?  After all, you're the one who brought him into our house, into our lives.  Hell, he's still allowed there.  I'm the one who's not, isn't that right, Father?  I'm the victim, yet I'm the one being punished."_

_"You were a victim of nothing!" he thundered.  "You won't spread such libelous slanders about my respected friend and colleague.  Do you hear me?  I won't allow it!"  _

_"You won't allow it?" Nancy repeated incredulously.  "You don't have any say in my life at all any more, Father.  I'm not under your roof or your control.  I support myself and my daughter by myself.  And I'd rather burn in hell than accept one penny's worth of help from you."_

_"You've made your position on that subject quite clear, my dear.  And even if you hadn't, I wouldn't offer you anything.  Not when you insist on behaving like this.  If, as you say, you want to take care of yourself, what's the point of bringing up the past?  What do you hope to gain from it, if not financial stability?"_

_Mama laughed again, that same bitter, empty laugh.  "That's always your first thought, isn't it, Father?  Money.  Money and power.  Which is why you insist on believing—or at least claiming to believe—his lies over the truth out of the mouth of a daughter who never once has lied to you.  Because it gets you more in the end.  Losing my love and trust was only a minor consideration.  But I don't care about those things.  I want justice.  Or at least I want the world to know what kind of a monster that man really is."  _

_From her bedroom, the little girl shook with fear at the look of cold hatred on her grandfather's face.  He stepped forward menacingly and clamped his hands down hard on Mama's shoulders.  "You're a fool, Nancy.  Do you think anyone in the world who matters will believe you?  They'd take one look at you and this hovel you call a home and determine that you're nothing but a scam artist.  You'll accomplish nothing except your own public humiliation."_

_Nancy shook free of her father's grasp.  "You're wrong.  You see, I have proof in the form of that precious little girl you refuse to acknowledge as your granddaughter.  All it will take is a simple DNA test to confirm that she is his daughter.  Everyone will know what happened to me.  I was raped, Father.  You can live in denial for your entire life if you choose to, but I won't.  I was raped!"  Mama was sounding more hysterical by the moment.  "You don't even care, do you?  I'm your daughter, damn you!  Why don't you care?"  _

_He just sneered down at the sobbing figure before him in disgust.  "I refuse to listen to your histrionics any longer, Nancy.  I came here to deliver you an ultimatum.  Drop this vendetta you have, or I will stand with him in declaring that you were a willing partner in the affair.  After all, no one will doubt the grieved confession of a father whose daughter refused to travel down the right path.  Do you want to be painted as the whore you are for the whole world to see, Nancy?  Especially in the eyes of that monstrosity you call your daughter?  She should never have been born."_

_"Got to hell!"__ Nancy screamed through her tears.  "Get out of my house, and go straight to hell where you belong!"  Mama sat crumpled in a corner of the couch, weeping unrestrainedly.  Apparently, her grandfather had nothing more to say for he stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.  "I hate him!  I hate him!  It's all his fault.  All of it."_

_Mama's tears and exclamations didn't surprise her.  Mama cried all the time.  She knew there was nothing she could do, and she didn't want Mama to yell at her for eavesdropping so as silently as she could, she slipped back into bed.  She tried to go back to sleep; but between the sound of Mama's tears and the conversation still ringing in her head, it was impossible.  A lot of it had gone over her head, but certain things were impossible to forget.  _

_Mama hated her daddy, whoever he was.  She said he was a monster.  And her grandfather said that she was a monstrosity, that she should never have been born.  He was probably right.  If not for her, Mama wouldn't be crying.  If not for her, none of this would have been happening.  She never should have been born.  She wished she could cry like Mama did, but she never cried.  It never helped Mama feel better, and she refused to be that weak.  _

_She heard Mama's sobs die down and heard the telltale creak of her getting up from the couch.  She closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep, knowing Mama would come in to check on her before she went to bed.  Sure enough, a few moments later, the door opened, and Mama walked in.  She hoped Mama wouldn't be able to tell she was still awake.  Soft fingers ran through her thick, dark hair as Mama bent low over her.  "Mama loves you so much, sweetheart," she whispered.  "Never forget that."  Mama kissed her gently on the forehead and cheek before tiptoeing back out of the room._

_She was just starting to fall back to sleep with a loud explosion followed by a thud brought her wide awake.  "Mama!" she screamed, waiting for her mother to come in and tell her everything was all right.  Mama didn't come.  _

_"Mama!" she called again, this time taking the initiative and getting out of bed to see for herself.  Summoning all her courage, she left her room and headed for her mother's bedroom, where the noise had come from.  "Mama, where are you?"  Still no answer.  She pushed open her mother's door, paralyzed with fear at the sight that met her eyes._

_Dark red liquid pooled out from her mother's mouth, staining the carpet and her hair with its sickly color.  "Mama," she whimpered, kneeling on the floor near the frightening sight.  "Mama, are you okay?  What happened?  Did you fall?"  She reached for her mother's hand, only then noticing the dreadful specter of the gun that had fallen from her limp hand onto the floor.  As some grasp of the situation settled on the child, a piercing cry, inarticulate in its misery, broke from her lips, shattering the stillness of the night…_

"Wake up, Beloved!  Shh, Tempest.  It's all right.  It was only a dream."  Brady's panicked words didn't carry much comfort with them.  But they brought her out of her fevered nightmare.  And that was enough for now.  Her mumblings had been disturbing, but that final scream was blood-curdling.  He wished she would open up to him, let him know what it was that haunted her so, but he knew better than to press.  Not yet.  It was still too soon.

She looked around, once again aware of her surroundings, and the man who sat in constant vigil by her side.  The man who was now her husband.  He smoothed back her hair, just as her mother had done that night so many years ago.  She shied away from the caress, as though he had struck her.  Brady sighed, defeated once again in his efforts to reach her.  This wasn't going to be easy.  Not easy at all.


	9. Chapter Nine

The Power of a Name

**Chapter Nine**

Mimi grabbed a hold of his shirt as he brushed by her in the school hallway before lunch break.  "Kevin, how much longer are you going to keep doing this?" she responded angrily.  She was sick of being snubbed by one of her best friends, simply for refusing to go on a date with him.  It was about time they settled it one way or another.  

Kevin only glared spitefully down at her, before pushing his glasses up his nose in that annoyingly superior way of his.  "What exactly am I doing, Miriam?"

She barely suppressed the urge to punch him in the nose.  "That is it!  Kevin Lambert, you're coming with me.  Now."  She grabbed his hand and pulled him into one of the quickly clearing classrooms as students poured out of the school for lunch period.  She slammed the door behind them, before turning to face him with arms crossed and a look of scolding to match any of the teachers in the school.  "Okay, Kev.  I've had just about enough of your wounded male ego.  So I turned you down.  So what?  It's not like I haven't before.  What gives you the gall to act like this?"

Kevin was unmoved by Mimi's display.  It was like her to make dramatic statements with little substance.  "I believe my behavior is perfectly justified under the circumstances, Miriam.  The real question is where you get the source of your arrogance.  I've known you all your life; and I know perfectly well that I'm the only man who's shown a hint of interest in you.  And I've shown much more than that.  I've been crazy about you.  And all you've ever repaid me with is derision and rejection.  So what is it about you, Miriam Lockhart, that makes you so high above me?"

Mimi's mouth hung open in shock for a moment as she digested the full force of Kevin's words.  "You think that's why I said no, Kevin?" she asked finally.  "Because I think I'm better than you?"  His silence gave her all the answer she needed.  "Oh, Kev, that had nothing to do with it!  It has to do with the thing I can never make you understand.  It has to do with the feeling I have that there's just one person for everyone in this world; and you're not that for me."  Her innocent eyes pleaded with him for acceptance, if not for understanding.

Kevin yanked off his glasses angrily.  "What is it about me that is so wrong, Meems?  Am I too smart?  Not handsome enough?  Not popular enough?  Tell me what it is that you're looking for."

"Oh Kevin," she said gently, wishing she could take away the hurt but knowing there was nothing she could do.  He was finally being forced to face a reality she'd been trying to make clear to him for years.  "It's not you.  There's nothing about you I would ever want you to change.  You're one of my best friends.  But that's what we are.  Friends.  The thing I'm looking for…it's not anything physical.  It's not something you can change.  It just is.   It's a feeling I get in the pit of my stomach that's missing when I look at you."

Kevin shook his head, seeing the glazed, dreamy expression in her eyes.  He hated that look.  It had been the symbol for years of all about Miriam Lockhart that he couldn't understand and couldn't possess.  But it was also the thing he loved most about her.  Somehow, in his desire for her, his obsession for her, that love of all that she was had been lost.  He put his glasses back on, sighing.  "I hope you find what you're looking for, Mimi.  I honestly do."

Mimi smiled at him, knowing that she had her best friend back.  "Thanks, Kevin.  I hope you find it too.  Somewhere there's a girl who's perfect for you.  It's just not me, and it never will be."  He nodded glumly, and she saw by the defeated shrug of his shoulders that he had finally given his cause up as lost.  She surveyed him critically for a moment, before deciding to voice her idea.  "Hey, Kev?  How'd you like two dates to the prom?"

"What?" Kevin asked, confused by her sudden change of subject.  "Who?"

"Susan and I," Mimi announced nonchalantly.  "I mean, come on.  None of us have dates.  Why don't we just go as a group?  Friends.  It's always been the three of us, ever since kindergarten.  And I think that's how it should be.  Don't you?"

Kevin studied her for a moment, before his face broke into the familiar grin that she hadn't seen in such a long time.  He nodded.  "Sure.  Why not?  It's definitely better than us all going alone."

"Great!" Mimi cried excitedly, leaning in to give him a hug.  It was the first time in years she felt comfortable in an embrace with him.  She didn't feel like he was demanding anything of her.  It was the embrace of friends.

The door opened, causing them to pull apart slightly.  Mimi paled and jumped back further when she saw who it was.  He met her with a sardonic grin, but she could almost swear she felt angry vibes coming off from him.  What did he have to be angry about?  "Hello, Miss Lockhart.  It seems I've told you before about being in classrooms where no teacher is present."

Mimi could feel both his and Kevin's eyes on her, his accusing, Kevin's questioning.  "Um, I'm sorry," she mumbled, for the first time ever, anxious to be away from the man who'd been haunting her dreams for weeks.  "We were just leaving."  She made a move to get past him and out the door, but he easily blocked her.  She refused to meet his eyes, even though she berated herself for feeling guilty.  After all, what he had seen had been perfectly innocent.  And even if it hadn't been, she didn't owe him anything.  

"Not so fast, Miss Lockhart," he said, an infuriating note of authority in his voice.  "This is the second time I've found you violating school policy.  I'd like to have a word with you about it."  He cast a dark glare in Kevin's direction.  "You can go."

Kevin looked annoyed at his imperious tone.  Who the hell did this guy think he was?  Hitler?  "I was here too.  We both broke the rule, although it seems a pointless rule to me.  Why are you going to report her and not me?"

Kevin's temper had never been more ill-timed.  Mimi had felt her spirits begin to recover the moment he had asked her to stay behind alone.  She didn't want Kevin screwing it up.  "It's all right, Kev," she said quickly, stopping either man from a heated reply.  "Like he said, he'd warned me about it before.  Go on.  I'll see you in class."  Kevin didn't look pleased about it, but he obeyed Mimi and left the classroom.  Dead silence hung in the air for a moment after he left.  Mimi finally found the courage to look up at him, and discovered him watching her with an expression impossible to define.  She blushed deeply.  "What?"

His mouth curved up in a derisive smirk.  "Nothing.  It's none of my business if you want to sneak off with you boyfriend on lunch hour.  Oh wait, yes it is.  When you do it on school grounds."

Mimi felt her face turn even redder with a mixture of mortification and anger.  "First of all, he's _not my boyfriend.  He's just a friend.  And we weren't doing anything.  Secondly, I find your attitude completely offensive.  What gives you the right to treat me like this?"_

He'd seen her flustered before.  He'd seen her embarrassed, often.  But he'd never seen her angry.  And despite himself, he was finding it a major turn on.  He forced himself to push that aside.  "I'm sorry," he returned disdainfully.  "I didn't realize I owed you special treatment.  By all means, explain to me why you should be regarded any better than all the other students in this school, Miss Lockhart."

Mimi felt tears of humiliation well in her eyes, but she bit them forcefully back.  There was no way in hell she was going to give him the satisfaction of making her cry.  What was making him turn on her like this?  "I don't know," she retorted hotly.  "Please let me know when I can expect to be treated like an adult by you, and when I'll be relegated to the position of just another kid; and then, maybe I can come up with an answer for you."

He had hurt her.  He could see that immediately.  But he refused to care, just as he refused to recognize the jolt of rage and envy that had shot through him the moment he had entered the room and seen her with that kid.  She was nothing but a child, a delusional child, if she was starting to think that a couple of strange, accidental encounters meant there was something going on between them.  "Listen, Miss Lockhart, I'm not sure what exactly you think my going lenient on you that first day means; but I assure you, it doesn't mean that you can break school rules without paying the consequences."

"Fine, then.  Report me."  Mimi was practically screaming now, feeling rejected on every level.  "I don't care.  Nothing could be worse than standing here having to listen to a lecture from a guy who's maybe what, three, four years older than me?  I didn't do anything wrong that day.  And I didn't do anything wrong today either.  The only thing that's different is that today you're in a crappy mood.  You want someone to take it out on?  Fine!  But it's not going to be me."  

As she marched angrily towards the door, he stepped back, torn between the knowledge that he owed her an apology and the realization that giving her one would lead to things he couldn't let happen.  So he simply stood back, waiting for her to go.  But she didn't.  She made it to the door.  Her hand was on the knob, ready to walk out of the room and away from all the things she'd been thinking about him for the past few weeks.  But something stopped her.  A force outside herself made her stop and turn around.  He raised his eyebrows, still not ready to give in.  "Well?" he asked, with forced nonchalance.  "Now is the time for your grand exit, Miss Lockhart.  What do you want?"

"I don't know," Mimi answered honestly, her brow knit in confusion.  "I want to understand what's going on between us.  Mainly, I just want you to admit that there _is something going on between us.  Admit it.  I'm more than just another average teenager to you.  I won't ask for more.  Just an acknowledgement that I mean something—even just a little bit—to you."_

He exhaled loudly, running a hand back through his sandy blonde hair.  Why did she insist on cornering him this way?  The more he tried to push her away, the more she kept pushing her way back.  Back to him.  Back towards the walls around his heart, quietly chipping away against the idol he'd erected there to Belle's memory.  He laughed nervously, trying to rebuff the idea.  "I'll admit that you're more…unforgettable…than most of the kids I've met here.  Whether that's a good thing or a bad thing is for you to decide."

She took a step away from the door, smiling self-consciously.  "Well, it's a start at least.  See?  I can be satisfied with very little.  You don't have to push me away."  She saw him jump and knew he was surprised that she had read him so well.  But she wasn't surprised.  She already was learning how to see past the front he put up to the vulnerable man he tried so hard to hide.  

As she continued to approach him, slowly, unthreateningly, he felt his unease growing.  Simply, the fact that it would be so easy to love her frightened him.  Damn it.  Why did she make him so weak?  He met her loving gaze with a deadly serious one of his own.  "Little girl, you don't know what you're getting yourself into."

Mimi stopped barely three feet away from him.  "You're probably right.  In fact, I'm clueless pretty much everything in life.  Why should this be any different?  But I'm willing to risk it.  I'm very determined.  And oh, I'm _not a little girl."  She stood before him, hands on hips, unintimidated and ready to accept any challenge he might send her way.  _

His eyes started at her feet and traveled up over all the luscious curves of her body, finally resting on her blushing face.  She was right.  She wasn't a little girl.  But she wasn't a woman either.  She was lost somewhere in between and probably always would be.  An eternal innocent.  One that he refused to destroy.  "Mimi, I'm going to give you the best advice I possibly can.  Stay the hell away from me."

Her eyes closed, as a soft breath left her body.  "Say it again," she pleaded.

He looked at her like she had lost her already unstable mind.  "What?  Stay the hell away from me?"

Mimi rolled her eyes.  "No.  My name.  Say my name."  There had been something in the way he had said it, some special note, some strange pull.  Her name had never sounded like that on any pair of lips before.  And she had to concentrate on that.  She refused to listen to his words.  She recognized them for what they were, an attempt at self-preservation.  She didn't understand what it was exactly that made him so determined to shut her out, but she knew that at the root of it was that pain she had seen the day in the park.  

He couldn't believe it.  He told her to get lost, and all she could think was that she liked the way he said her name?  She honestly was a total lunatic.  And the craziest thing about it was that she was saner than he was.  There was something so eccentric about her that she could do anything, say anything, and still there was something beautiful about the action, the word, because it came from her.  Without thinking, he obeyed.  "Mimi."  He liked the way her named rolled off his tongue, smooth as butter, sweet as candy.  "Mimi."

She smiled brightly enough to light up the room, and the darkest corners of his heart.  "Thank you.  Oh, and before I forget again, what's—"  The sudden ringing of the bell disrupted their moment, as teacher and students began to file into the classroom.  Mimi found herself being jostled away; and by the time she looked around again, he was, predictably, gone.

~~*~~

Entering that house was the most surreal experience of her life.  There was something so ironic about being carried over the threshold of a cozy little cabin in the mountains by a husband so virtuous he wouldn't even sleep with a hooker he had paid for.  It was made even more amusing by the fact that the reason she was being carried was because she still didn't feel well enough to walk.  If she had, there was no way in hell she'd even be here at this moment.  

"Welcome home, Amanda," Brady said quietly, as he carried her through the house and laid her on the giant feather bed where she would continue her recuperation.  Her only response was to glare up at him.  He laughed softly, unwilling to let her anger rattle him.  "Save your strength for getting better, beloved.  You'll have plenty of time to hate me later."  

She simply turned her head away from his smiling face.  His humor and patience would give way eventually.  And then, there was no telling what was in store for her.  But he was right.  She couldn't think about hating him now.  She couldn't think about anything.  Between the pain-filled hours of wakefulness and the drug-induced nightmares, there was no energy in her to care even about the uncertain future that awaited her.  

She just wanted it all to stop.  She wanted him to go away.  She wished he'd never found her in the first place.  She wished he had just let her die.  It would have only been correcting a mistake her mother made nineteen years ago, when she'd decided to give birth to her, instead of aborting her as she should have done.  Her grandfather had said it all that night.  She should never have been born.  The filth that clung to her lived in her blood.  The only escape was through death.  And even that was denied her.

Brady saw her misery and prayed to God for some way to relieve it.  She was so scarred, so battered.  And most of them were on the inside, someplace she kept locked far away from him and everyone else.  He didn't even know where to begin when it came to reaching her.  Was it even possible to reach her?  Or had the life she had led actually succeeded in making her as hollow as she sometimes appeared to be?  No, he couldn't believe that.  There was something about her that called to him, and he refused to accept that it was as simple as lust.

Seeing she wasn't willing or able to communicate with him, Brady left her for a few minutes to go make her soup. When he returned, she only looked up at him with empty eyes, completely uncaring whether she ate now or ever again.  Brady simply put the tray down on the night stand beside her and fed her, bite by bite, not stopping until she had consumed it all.  He never spoke a word to her, and she never spoke to him.  For now, it was enough for Brady to make her well again.  He refused to do anything to press her or make her uncomfortable until she was ready to fight back.  She only watched him with the eyes of a frightened, caged bird, ready to fly away the second the opportunity was provided her.  

Brady handed her a cup of water and one of the pain pills Dr. Wesley had prescribed.  "Here.  Take this," he instructed.  "It will help with the pain, and you'll be able to sleep."  There was nothing she'd rather do less than sleep.  Sleep meant dreams, and dreams meant nightmares.  And her nightmares had the added horror of being real.  But she'd rather do anything than explain that to him.  She obediently took the medication, before turning and lying on her side, making sure to keep her face completely averted from him.  

Brady only shook his head at her immediate withdrawal.  He had the depressing feeling that this was going to become habit for her.  Pulling away from him whenever she felt threatened.  And she didn't need to feel threatened or afraid ever again.  If only he could make her see that.  Knowing that there most definitely wouldn't be any breakthroughs tonight, he simply picked up the tray and turned out the lamp.  "Good night, Amanda.  Sweet dreams."

She waited until he removed himself from the room before releasing a hoarse chuckle at the thought.  Sweet dreams.  What did that even mean?  There had never been such a thing as sweet dreams in all her life.  There were only nightmares, nightmares that would never end.  She fought against her rising weariness as long as she possibly could.  She refused to go into that dreaded place of blackness.  But the medication was already accomplishing its prescribed duty.  Even as she struggled to keep her eyes open, she found herself whirling down into the darkest place she knew.  Her own memory…

_As the child stared at her lifeless mother on the floor, screaming senselessly, other realities started to register.  The pounding of fists on the door, the cries from Mr. Lane to open up.  A strange numb feeling settled over her, as she went to open the door.  The sweet old man looked down at her stricken face.  "Sweetheart, what's the matter?  Where's your mama?"_

_She only pointed blankly back towards the bedroom; and as Mr. Lane followed her direction, she was ceased with the sudden desire to run.  She wanted to run as far and as fast as she could get away from that house.  Away from the sight of her mother like that.  Away from the screaming words, and her intimidating grandfather.  Away from everything that had happened tonight.  And so she did.  _

_Not heeding the calls of Mr. Lane, she ran all the way down the six flights of stairs and into the city streets at night.  It would have been pitch black, if not for the street lamps.  No stars shone, there was no moon tonight.  There was only the darkness that reached through the skin to chill the heart.  Even the uneven glow cast by the street lamps added to the eerie quality of the night.  _

_But the child ignored it, bare feet pounding relentlessly over the hard pavement.  She stepped on broken glass, cutting the tender skin; but still she ran, uncaring of the trail of blood she left behind her.  She'd seen enough blood.  At least she was still capable of pain.  Mama wasn't.  Her mama never would be again.  And it was all because of her.  _

_She didn't remember the eventual collapse in the early hours of the morning.  By that time, she had reached an unrecognizable district of the city.  Even if she had wanted to, there would be no finding her way back home.  The next few days were simply a blur in her mind.  She wandered the streets aimlessly, not eating, barely sleeping, trying her best to avoid human contact.  But it was impossible that she should go unnoticed forever._

_She didn't know how long she'd been living on the streets when an expensive black car with tinted windows pulled to a stop beside her one day.  She backed away in fright, everything inside her recoiling from the man who stepped out.  He seemed to her the biggest person she'd ever seen, but she was almost sure that was the result of his intimidating presence.  His expensive suit and charming smile did nothing to disguise the aura of evil that seemed to exude from him.  _

_"Are you lost, little girl?" he said, in a tone of deceptive softness.  His voice was cultured and tinged with the slightest accent, as he bent towards her.  She shook her head and stumbled backwards a few more steps, too scared even to scream but wanting to run.  But she found her shoulders caught from behind by another man who had stepped out of the car.  She struggled briefly, before she found herself being pulled in the direction of the car._

_"Now, now, there," the oily man with the dark hair said, in an attempt to sooth her.  "It's all right, little one.  We're just going to take you somewhere where you can get something warm to eat.  You'd like that, wouldn't you?  Then, we'll see if you have a mommy and a daddy who are missing you, all right?  That will be nice, won't it?"  At a nod to the man who had a hold of her, she found herself being shoved forcibly into the back seat of the sedan.  _

_Her voice suddenly found her, and she let loose a scream of pure terror, but it was too late.  She and the two men were settled back in the car, and the driver was taking them to some unknown destination.  The other man was looking at her in a way that made her want to be sick, like he wanted to devour her.  Maybe he did.  Maybe he was a cannibal, and he ate little children.  _

_"You don't need to be afraid of me, little one," he said, patting the seat beside him.  "Come now.  Sit down, and tell me all about you.  What's your name?"  She kept her distance, her eyes a wide, terrified dark blue.  She shook her head ferociously, unwilling to tell him anything.  He took in her reluctance, smiling predatorily.  "You may call me the Phoenix."_

_She personally would never call him anything.  She didn't plan on being around long enough to.  As soon as she saw her chance, she'd run.  She was getting good at running.  But she wished suddenly that she had stayed that night.  Maybe if she had, she would be living with nice Mr. and Mrs. Lane instead of trapped with this terrifying man.  He made her grandfather look like Santa Claus.  _

_"What about parents, my dear?  Do you have a mommy or a daddy?"  She simply looked up at him through those same scared eyes.  "Do you have a home?  Someone who's looking for you?"  Still, no answer.  His smile broadened, as he fully accepted the fact that she had no one.  He reached a hand out to tip her chin up and take in all the lines of her face.  "Such a pretty little thing.  Don't you talk?"_

_She yanked out of his grasp.  There was something so frighteningly intimate in it.  She'd never been touched like that.  And she never wanted to be again.  He chuckled at her resistance.  She would learn soon enough that struggle was useless.  They pulled into the garage of one of the biggest houses she had ever seen.  The driver came around and opened the door, and she found herself being yanked out of the car and into the house.  _

_"Have her cleaned up and fed and then brought to my room, Vivian," the Phoenix said, as he passed her off to a female servant the moment they came through the doors.  He disappeared quickly, and she found herself being led into the kitchen by the woman.  She found herself studying the lady's face as she sat at the kitchen table.  The woman seemed hard, weary, like she'd been part of too much evil in this world.  And whenever her eyes rested on the little girl, even momentarily, they seemed to overflow with pity and regret.  _

_But apparently all her sympathy wouldn't give her the courage to go against her employer's orders.  Vivian made sure the little girl was fed and washed and then led her directly to the master's bedroom.  Only once she was there, did the woman find it impossible to leave the child unprepared.  She knelt before the pretty little girl, with the scared, sorrowful blue eyes.  "Listen to me, child," she said, in a rushed, hurried whisper.  "It will be easier on you if you don't fight.  Just let him have what he wants, and it will all be over."_

_"Vivian!" a sharp voice rapped from the door.  "That will be all.  Leave us."  _

_Vivian reluctantly stood up, placing herself between him and the child.  "Please, Stefano.  Let this one go.  She could have a family out there somewhere.  Don't do this."  _

_"I told you to leave, Vivian.  I'd suggest you do that now."  There was a note of finality in his voice that made Vivian give up her quest as hopeless.  With one last squeeze of the little girl's shoulders, she passed out of the room, tears already welling in her eyes for the innocence she knew was about to be destroyed._

_The Phoenix picked up the child and placed her sitting on the foot of his bed, before kneeling down in front of her.  He stroked back the long dark hair, seeing the little girl start with fright.  "You're so pretty, my pet.  You should have a name to match."  He looked deep into the azure eyes.  "Sapphire.  Do you like that name, Sapphire?"  Her only reaction was to scoot farther away from him._

_He laughed, a perverse, evil sound. "It's all right, darling.  We're just going to get to know each other a bit tonight.  You'll like that, won't you, Sapphire?  And if you don't, you'll learn to."  As he stripped off his jacket, she knew suddenly that her grandfather was right.  She should never have been born…_

"Amanda, it's all right."  Brady shook her gently awake.  Her nightmare had been even more violent this time.  She thrashed and fought against the covers, her very silence more terrifying than the screams of her previous dreams.  She couldn't even wake herself up that way.  She sat up, bathed in sweat and still reliving the horror of that night and so many nights to come.  

Brady's hands were resting on her shoulders, and she pulled herself away, still shaking with fear.  "No!" she screamed.  "Don't touch me.  Don't ever touch me."  She pulled herself to the far side of the bed, as far away from him as humanly possible. 

Brady frowned.  He'd never seen her like this before.  So scared and vulnerable.  She seemed almost like a little girl, and he was suddenly struck by just how young she was.  She put up such a front of being invincible, but she couldn't be much more than twenty years old, if that.  God, how young had her destruction started?  She must have been through all seven rings of hell to end up like this.  "I wish you'd tell me what you dream about," he said softly.

"Just leave me alone," she murmured, as she became once more aware of her surroundings.  The Phoenix couldn't touch her anymore, but there was a very real, very present danger to her safety now.  An enigma as frightening to her as Stefano DiMera.  She'd been through every sort of abuse that it was possible to live through, but the unknown frightened her more than anything else.  She could feel his questioning eyes on her.  Well, let him wonder.  She certainly wasn't going to confide in him.

Brady sat in the chair by her bedside for the rest of the night, afraid she'd experience even more nightmares when she fell back asleep.  But she didn't.  When she finally got back to sleep, it was out of an exhaustion too deep for nightmares to invade it.  Even then, he still sat beside her, ready to comfort her, ready to help her.  If only she'd give him the chance.  


	10. Chapter Ten

The Power of a Name

**Chapter Ten**

_"Shawn, are you sure this will work?  He'll catch us.  I know he will."  The frightened warning in her whispered words was accompanied by a restraining hand on Shawn's arm.  Eight years with the Phoenix had been enough to make her actually believe him when he said that he knew every move she made._

_Shawn turned to her, taking her hand in his, soothing her with his confidence.  "Don't worry, Sapphire.  I'll get you out of her, just like I promised.  Trust me."  The delivery boy had been struck by her mournful beauty from the first time he saw her, and the succeeding months had only increased his desire to see her out of this accursed place.  A year older than her in age, a lifetime younger in experience, Shawn believed it was up to him to be her savior._

_Looking into his warm brown eyes, she forced a smile.  But it was weak.  She knew so many things about the Phoenix no one else did.  The man was the devil incarnate.  He could make anyone do anything.  He was a master at manipulation.  "I do trust you, it's just…Let's get out of here, Shawn," she pleaded.  "I'm sure I'll feel better once we're out of this house."_

_Shawn nodded, carrying her suitcase in one hand while still holding hers in the other.  Noiselessly, they made their way past the many closed doors in the old, respectable—from an aesthetic perspective at any rate—brownstone.  She refused to let herself feel anything at all.  Not yet.  Not until she was out of this house, this city, this state._

_From that first day, her life had been ruthlessly torn apart.  Again and again, the layers of her innocence had been stripped away from her, until there was nothing left at all.  Her mind and emotions had been molested just as completely as her body.  And then, a year ago, when he'd taken every last drop of her humanity and dignity away from her, when he'd left her so torn and scarred that she'd never recover, when she had finally convinced herself that there was nothing more he could do to hurt her, he'd revealed exactly how diabolical he really was.  Her hellish existence over the past seven years had only been in preparation for her to serve the perverted lusts of every senator, judge, and public official that Stefano needed in his pocket._

_She had absolutely reached the end.  Suicide was looking more appealing by the day.  Not that it would be her first attempt.  But then Shawn had come into her life.  And he had given her the one thing she was most desperate for…hope.  Hope of escape, hope of something more.  For that alone, she was willing to pay any price.  When all he asked for in return was her body and her love, it seemed a more than fair exchange.  She didn't have a clue in hell what love was; but she didn't loathe and despise him like she did every other man she'd ever known, so she'd take that as a step in the right direction.  The first time she and Shawn slept together was the first time she'd ever had sex with a man where she wasn't forced or paid.  She'd somehow expected it would feel different.  But it hadn't.  She still felt dirty, used; and this time, she was using him right back.  He was her way out.  _

_She almost couldn't believe it when they made it down the back staircase and outside.  She had been so sure that they'd be caught before they ever left the building.  It struck her that this was her first breath of fresh air in eight years untainted by the presence of that monster.  She took one look back at her own personal purgatory as she and Shawn made their way to his truck.  The only thing that could make this moment more complete would be to see the place in flames._

_But it was as the engine started and they drove away that the realization of freedom settled over her.  She didn't feel joy.  She was incapable of that emotion by now.  She felt only a sort of grim satisfaction for finally having beaten the Phoenix in his sadistic little chess game.  She didn't know where she would go from here.  She didn't care.  Life had ceased to hold any importance to her a long time ago.  For the moment, it was enough simply to be away from him._

_She didn't take notice of her surroundings until the truck pulled to a stop.  She froze suddenly with fear, a knot forming in her belly.  "Shawn, why did you bring me here?  I can't go in there.  You know I can't."_

_Shawn gave her shoulders a comforting squeeze.  "It's all right, Sapphire.  Nothing's going to happen to you.  But we're going to make sure they give that son of a bitch everything he deserves.  Don't worry about it.  We'll go in; you'll give your statement; and then, they'll arrest him.  That's what you want, isn't it?  To see Stefano rot in jail for what he did to you?"_

_She shook her head violently.  "You don't understand, Shawn.  Stefano owns the police force.  He owns the whole damn city.  If we go in there, it's all over.  He'll get us for sure."_

_"Sapphire, you're overreacting," Shawn argued in a patronizing, over-confident tone.  "All your time with that man has made you think he had more power than he really does.  He's just a man.  He'll suffer the consequences for his actions.  The police will make sure of it.  Come on, baby.  You trust me, don't you?"  She reluctantly nodded.  "Then, tell the police what he did to you, and I promise you'll never have to worry about him again as long as you live."_

_She didn't have a choice.  Shawn was her only friend in the world.  So she obediently walked with him to the station house.  She knew it was an idiotic idea the moment they entered the building.  Half the men there were on the Phoenix's payroll.  But Shawn refused to see what she did.  His head was too full of the glory that would be his for taking down Stefano DiMera._

_Even as they were led away to take down their statements, Shawn was completely unaware of the net closing in around them.  But she was.  She had just learned a long time ago the futility of struggle.  She should never have listened to Shawn in the first place.  She had been foolish to believe that he was doing this solely for her.  Everyone had an ulterior motive.  She knew that.  She swore then and there that she'd never trust anyone ever again.  Trust was the enemy.  Hope was for children.  Love was the foulest word in the English language._

_The officer taking her statement got up and left.  He didn't say a word about letting her go, and she wasn't surprised when he locked the door from the outside.  She could already see it all playing out in her mind.  Any moment now, the Phoenix would come into the room, frowning like a heartbroken father, and say—_

_"How could you, my Sapphire?"  His actual presence was even more intimidating than the one in her mind's eye.  Immediately, her back went rigid.  She couldn't let him see her fear.  She took refuge in the only weapon she'd ever had.  Her anger._

_"Go to hell," she spat out, not even surprised herself at the lack of passion in her voice.  The words didn't cut him at all.  A monster that created hell on earth for innocent children couldn't even be frightened by the threat of eternal damnation.  He was the Phoenix after all, able to resurrect himself from the ashes._

_Stefano chuckled darkly, and there was death knell for her in the sound.  "My little Sapphire."  Underneath the affectionate words, a river of rage flowed.  "Always so eloquent in your responses.  I would think, after all this time, you could come up with something more original."_

_So she did.  Using every filthy word she'd ever learned in a lifetime filled with them, she told him exactly what she thought of him.  She was beyond caring of the consequences.  Even as she saw him turn practically purple with anger, her only thought was that she might finally make him snap enough to kill her.  Death held no fear for her.  It was the only release she could imagine.  _

_"Enough," the Phoenix commanded finally, the one word telling her it was settled.  She raised her chin defiantly, unflinching in the face of his murderous evil.  He approached her and grasped her face in his hand, his grip forceful enough that it made her wince despite herself.  "I thought you had learned long ago, my dear, that there are always consequences for disobeying me.  It seems you have forgotten.  A reminder is in order."  He straightened again and made a gesture towards an officer waiting outside the interrogation room._

_A feeling of dread she had hitherto been without swept over her as she saw them bringing Shawn.  Terror and pain were already visible in chocolate eyes.  They were still beautifully untouched in the battered, bloodied face.  Oh God, what had she done?  This was all her fault.  He didn't deserve this.  "Shawn, I'm sorry, so sorry," she said quietly, as the officers drew him to a halt right in front of her._

_He shook his head, as his eyes lovingly traced every line of her face.  "No, Sapphire.  I'm sorry.  I should have listened to you. Forgive me."_

_The Phoenix's dark laughter broke into their moment.  "I'd say you both made your share of mistakes.  Sapphire, would you mind enlightening your foolish lover about where you first went wrong?"_

_She winced, knowing she was caught in yet another of Stefano's sick mind games.  Any defiance she showed would be immediately punished.  But not taken out on her.  Stefano wouldn't risk damaging his property like that.  Shawn would be the one to pay for her sins.  "I forgot who I belong to," she mumbled, keeping anything that might be construed as rebellion out of her voice.  "I forgot that I'm yours."_

_Stefano nodded his approval, before turning a malicious gaze on the handcuffed boy in front of him.  "And what about you, Shawnie boy?  When did you first go wrong?"  She held her breath, hoping against hope that Shawn would give the docile answer the Phoenix wanted to hear._

_But Shawn's jaw clenched and he didn't even try to bite back the venomous retort on his lips.  "My first mistake?  Not killing you, you bastard."  He struggled unsuccessfully against the policemen holding him._

_The Phoenix smiled then, a smile full of poison.  "Yes, Shawn.  A grievous mistake on your part.  Luckily, I don't intend to make the same."  In one swift motion, Stefano pulled out a gun from his waistband, cocked it, and aimed it at Shawn's head.  "You see, Shawnie boy, the one thing you should have known is you don't cross a DiMera and live to tell about it."_

_Her face went white as she watched the scene unfold.  He wasn't joking.  This was no idle bluff.  He was going to kill Shawn, the only decent man she'd ever met, a man whose only crime was to try and help her.  "No!" she found herself screaming, placing herself between Shawn and the gun barrel.  "Please, Stefano, you can't do this.  Let him go.  I've learned my lesson.  I swear I have."_

_The same venomous smile still lingered on Stefano's lips.  "An Oscar-worthy performance, my dear.  You truly are a wonderful actress, Sapphire.  You can even pretend on occasion that you have a heart; but we both know better, don't we, dear?  You're stone cold, dead inside, the supreme creation I've been looking for all my life."  He raised an eyebrow and stroked his beard, getting a predatory gleam in his eye.  "In fact, let's try something new, shall we?"_

_With a grip like iron, he caught hold of her wrist and turned her body around into his, delighting in her cry of pain.  He placed both her hands around the gun, with his on top of hers, controlling her every motion.  His breath was warm and foul in her ear as she found herself looking down the gun barrel towards Shawn's petrified face. _

_ "You see, Shawn?" the Phoenix taunted, relishing the cruel game.  "She's mind.  I can bend her to my will as easily as she can bend her luscious body."  His fingers led hers to the trigger.  "Pull it, Sapphire.  Pull it now."  His voice was hypnotizing and demanding, as it always had been when he wanted her to try something new and dreadful.  There had always been dire consequences when she hadn't._

_"No," she whispered, horrified.  The gun shook in her trembling hands, as beads of sweat began to form on her forehead.  She wouldn't do it.  She refused to kill someone like Shawn.  If she ever committed murder, it would be to rid the world of a loathsome piece of scum like the Phoenix.  _

_"Pull it," he ordered.  "Kill him now, Sapphire, or watch him be tortured to death before your eyes."  When her hand still refused to do his dirty work, he signaled the men guarding Shawn.  One of them immediately shattered his kneecap with his nightstick, the nauseating crack echoing in her ears.  Shawn crumpled with a cry of pain, before the guards yanked him up by his hair, holding him in perfect range of the gun._

_"Damn you," she gritted out, anger replacing her fear.  "Damn you, you sadistic son of a bitch."_

_Stefano fed off her hatred for him.  It was her hatred that kept him in control, though she didn't know this.  She thought it strengthened her, but it only kept her in his power.  He manipulated it, encouraged it, nurtured it.  "Yes, Sapphire.  Damn me," he urged her on.  "But damn all men.  I wasn't the first man to hurt you, was I?  No.  There were others before me."  Images of her grandfather swam before her eyes.  The words spoken about her father.  Her mother dead in a pool of blood on the floor._

_"And I'm not the only one who's used you, am I?" he continued in a coaching voice.  He was leading her down the path he wanted her to go.  It was so easy, so incredibly simple, to control her.  He could feel the rigidity in her body.  The gun no longer shook in her hands.  "All men use you.  They take what they want from you, without a thought for how it affects you.  Even Shawn.  Did you think he actually loved you, Sapphire?  He doesn't.  He only wanted the glory of bringing down a DiMera.  Deep down, you already know that.  Deep down, you know what you have to do.  Think of every man who's ever hurt you, lied to you, used you, abused you.  You can pay us all back, Sapphire.  You hold the power in your hands—"_

_After that, there was only the roar of the gunshot and the taste of lead inside her mouth…_

Brady listened in horror to the mumblings coming out of her troubled sleep.  This was more than a nightmare.  She was reliving some terrible past.  And even the few muffled words he'd been able to make out had painted a hellish picture of a tormented life.  She showed no signs of waking as she had with her previous nightmares.  Brady contemplated waking her, if only to free her from such an ordeal.

Tentatively, he reached out a hand to stroke the hair back from her fevered forehead.  Her only reaction was a soft sigh as she slowly relaxed into a deeper, truer, dreamless sleep.  Brady watched in wonder.  For the first time, she wasn't pulling away from him, wasn't recoiling in fear.  She looked so young and angelic in her sleep, now that her nightmares had abated.  

Afraid to wake her but unable to resist the urge to hold her, comfort her, Brady gently lay down on the bed beside his wife.  To his surprise, she didn't stir and allowed him to wrap her securely in his arms.  Content, Brady held her close to his heart and closed his eyes, willing her to accept the shelter and safety he offered her when she was sleeping, even if she wouldn't when she woke.

~~*~~

Connor Lockhart was not happy.  His mom hadn't been feeling well because of the baby, so she'd sent him over to the neighbors' house to play, while Dad was on a job interview and she took a nap.  The neighbors had two little girls, Ashley and Britney.  Connor did _not like girls.  Especially the kind of girls who liked to play Barbie dolls and house all day long.  They were most definitely that kind of girls.  _

When he'd finally convinced them to go to the park, he'd been thrilled.  Of course, once they got there, they still weren't any fun.  They wouldn't play tag or hide and seek or anything fun.  They just rolled their eyes at him and went to play on the merry go round.  Stupid girls.  He was _never getting married, even if he lived to be a hundred and five._

What else was a boy to do but go down to the river and start skipping rocks?  But even that was destined not to bring him much enjoyment for long.  Pretty soon, an old man came along and started yelling at him for scaring all the ducks away.  Sometimes life just wasn't fair.  Nobody seemed to even want him around anymore.  Dad was always upset about everything since he'd lost his job.  Mom only seemed to care about that stupid baby she was going to have.  And Mimi was busy all the time with school and friends and stuff.  Life sucked.

And now, here he was, walking through the park all alone, kicking a pine cone and feeling sorry for himself.  He barely even noticed as the light began to fade so deep was his pile of self-pity.  He kept walking along, not watching or caring where he was going and generally feeling angry with the world.  Until he bumped into someone tall and solid and in a mood every bit as dark as his was.

"What is it with this town?" Jason muttered, as he helped the little boy back up to his feet.  "Does nobody watch where they're going?"  The boy looked up at him with solemn dark eyes and a serious expression.  "Hey, Squirt.  A little late to be out all by yourself, isn't it?"  The child didn't answer, and Jason frowned.  It was times like these he wished he had Brady and Belle's way with children.  He hunkered down before the kid.  "What's your name, buddy?  Are you lost?"

The boy looked around him for the first time in hours.  The park which he usually knew as well as his own backyard seemed suddenly dark and foreboding.  His gaze returned to the sandy-haired stranger.  He knew he wasn't usually supposed to talk to strangers, but wasn't there supposed to be some sort of exception to that rule when you were lost?  Besides, he didn't really look so scary.  "Connor," he muttered finally.  "My name is Connor."

Jason let out a relieved breath.  At least the kid could talk.  "Nice to meet you, Connor.  Are your parents around here somewhere?"  Seeing the wary expression on the child's face, he added, "It's okay, Connor.  I just want to make sure you get home safe.  Do you live around here?"

Connor nodded, looking around him once more.  "We live at the edge of the park.  182 Sullivan Drive.  But I can't find it in the dark.  Do you know the way?"

Jason stood up again, his expression bewildered as he tried to spot the roads bordering the park.  "Sorry, kid.  I'm pretty new here, and I don't know the streets all that well yet.  I don't want to leave you all alone out here though, so what do you say we walk until we find it or find someone from whom we can ask directions?"  Lacking any other appealing options, Connor nodded following the man's lead.  Jason walked beside him in silence for a few minutes, feeling awkward and out of his depth.  He didn't have a clue how to relate to this small personage. _Relax, Masters, he silently chided himself.  __He's just a little boy.  You were one yourself, you know.  _

He thought back on his childhood.  He remembered carefree summer days playing baseball with Brady, Philip, and the gang.  He remembered the tree fort that had been his and Brady's secret hideout, until the day Belle found it.  He could still recall how furious they had been when they had come back from one of their adventures and found her there having a tea party with their G.I. Joes.  That seemed a lifetime ago.  He pictured splashing wars at the lake, snowball fights at the cabins, and pulling Belle's hair just to annoy her.  He remembered the one major fight he'd had with Brady after Brady teased him about being in love with Belle when he was in the third grade.  He remembered the picnic when they'd first discovered the meadow, their meadow…

Jason pulled himself out of his thoughts, unwilling to remember anymore.  His gaze fell once more on the blonde boy by his side.  Connor looked discomforted by his prolonged silence.  Jason cleared his throat uncomfortably.  "So are you looking forward to summer vacation?"

"Guess so," Connor mumbled, his eyes searching desperately for any familiar landmark.  Everything looked sinister by the uneven light of the streetlamps.  He was starting to question the wisdom of trusting a stranger.

Jason exhaled in frustration.  What had possessed him to take responsibility for this kid?  Oh well.  It was done now.  He could only hope that they found his home soon.  "Are you into baseball or anything, Connor?" he asked, deciding to take one more stab at starting a conversation.

Connor shrugged.  "It's okay.  I like soccer better."  The child's eyes lit up as he mentioned his favorite pastime.  "My team is undefeated so far this year," he boasted proudly.

"Impressive," Jason complimented hastily, glad to finally have him talking.  "What position do you play?"  As Connor rambled on enthusiastically about everything relative to his sport of choice, Jason smiled.  He couldn't help thinking the boy reminded him of someone.  But who?

~~*~~

Mimi waved goodbye to Susan after being dropped off at her house.  She was still smiling as she entered the front door, dropping her bag in the foyer.  "I'm home!" she shouted to no one in particular.  "We won!"  She'd been playing her final softball game of the season.  There was something nostalgic about it, knowing that it was the last game of her high school career as well.

"Mimi."  Her mother's tense tone of voice, coupled with the worry lines etched deeply in her face immediately let Mimi know something was horribly wrong.

"What is it, Mom?"  She was instantly at Maureen's side, supporting her and leading her back to the living room and her soft, squishy chair.  "Is it the baby?  Do you need a doctor?  Where's Dad?"

Maureen shook her head vigorously.  "It's not me, honey.  I'm fine.  It's Connor.  He's missing.  Your father's out looking for him now."  She clung compulsively to her daughter's hands, frantic as only a mother could be.

Mimi felt all the air sucked forcibly out of her lungs.  Connor, her sweet little brother, missing?  It wasn't possible.  "How…?"  Her voice faltered, and she took a deep breath before starting again.  "How long has he been gone?  What happened, Mom?  Start from the beginning."  She willed herself to remain calm.  Her mother was depending on her for once.

"I wasn't feeling well today," Maureen began, in a distant tone, as if it had happened years ago, and not merely this afternoon.  "I needed to lie down, but I didn't think it was right to keep him cooped up in the house all day so I asked Kim if I could send him over to play with the girls.  She said it would be fine, and I didn't think much more about it until a couple of hours ago when she called me.  Apparently, she let the kids go to the park by themselves—"

"What!?" Mimi exclaimed angrily, cutting her mother off.  "What kind of stupid, irresponsible moron lets three kids wander around the city by themselves?"

Maureen stroked her daughter's hair to calm her down.  "Believe me, honey, I've already given her a piece of my mind.  But that won't help us find Connor any sooner.  The point is the girls came back a few hours ago.  Without your brother.  They said he wandered off, and they couldn't find him.  Ron and your father are out looking for him right now.  I would be too, but David thought it best I stay here in case Connor comes back on his own."

Mimi struggled to fight back the overpowering fear that assaulted her senses.  This was the kind of thing nightmares were made of.  Flashing through her mind was every single news story about missing children she'd ever heard.  She knew enough to know that the more time that passed without sight of him the greater the chances that he'd been abducted or…No, she refused to think about that.  She couldn't.  She jumped up quickly, unable to sit still a moment longer.  "Dad's right, Mom.  You need to stay here, but I'm going to go look for him.  I know most of his favorite spots.  And I'll get Kevin and Su to help too.  We'll find him, Mom.  I promise."

Only pausing to give her mother a quick, comforting hug, Mimi went to the hall closet and grabbed a jacket and flashlight.  She proceeded to the front door and flung it open only to come face to face with _him.  He looked every bit as stunned as she felt.  Mimi barely had time to process it though before the small figure at his side grabbed all her attention.  "Connor," she cried, kneeling down and hauling him into her arms, unsure whether to laugh or cry.  _

Jason took in the scene with confused astonishment.  What kind of sick joke was fate playing on him now?  The kid was Mimi Lockhart's little brother?  He didn't appreciate this little twist.  Everything in him told him the smartest thing he could do was turn and run as far away from this house and that girl as possible.  The situation was made even easier on him by the appearance of an older woman in the hallway.  Judging by the distinct resemblance to Mimi and the tears that formed in her eyes as she pulled both children to her, this was undoubtedly their mother.  Both unwilling to interrupt the touching scene and feeling the need to escape from that girl and his unsettling feelings for her, Jason turned and headed back down the street.

Mimi heard his footsteps clatter on the sidewalk as he walked away, out of her life again.  She wasn't going to let him get away that easily this time.  She yanked out of her mother's embrace and ran out the door, ignoring Maureen's startled calls.  She knew how crazed she must seem to any of her neighbors that might have been looking out their windows at that moment, but she didn't care.  He'd been brought back into her life again by some mysterious force, and she wasn't going to let it be in vain.  

Jason had already reached the curb when he heard someone running behind him.  Slowly, he turned, only too aware of whom he'd find.  And of course, there she was, breathless from her mad dash.  Even as he instructed himself not to, he noticed how her cheeks were flushed from the effort, making her seem that much more alive and beautiful.  The light of the moon reflected off the tears streaming down her cheeks and even more off the unshed pools of water in her emerald eyes.  Why the hell did she have to be so damn enchanting?  "What do you want?" he asked sharply, to shorten this encounter as much as possible.

"I want…I wanted too…"  Mimi fumbled for the words, as her breath slowly came back to her.  No words seemed adequate as she stared up at a face chiseled out of stone, eyes as hard as marble.  Every last hint of the admiration she had seen there a moment ago was gone.  All that remained was the iron stranger.  Once again, she listened to an impulse instinct.  Instead of rambling, instead of searching for perfect words that would never come, she moved closer to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.  "Thank you," she whispered, her breathy voice in his ear.  

Jason, as often happened with Mimi Lockhart, found himself in a situation with which he had no idea how to deal.  She had taken him completely by surprise yet again.  Tonight, she was neither the rambling adolescent nor the playful child nor the forceful woman.  Tonight, she was…hell, he didn't even know who she was.  But he wanted to.  He wanted to know everything about her, every facet of her character.  And that was more frightening than anything else.

He should push her away.  He was well aware that the most dangerous thing he could do was return her embrace.  Yet somehow, without even consciously realizing what he was doing, his arms had snaked around her waist, pulling her tighter into his arms.  She smelled like strawberries, and her skin felt like satin against his.  He cradled her gently, as if she would shatter if he held her too tightly.  This little piece of heaven in his arms.

Mimi closed her eyes, trying to file everything about this moment away to memory.  The scent, the feel, the presence of him.  She knew that any moment now those old defenses would come back up and he would pull away from her, shut her out again.  She was becoming familiar with the routine by now.  But at this instant, she was wrapped in his arms, her body molding into his.  It felt so right.  She felt so safe.  Her hands lowered from their grip around his neck to rest on his solid chest.  She could feel the steady beating of his heart beneath her touch; and she memorized the cadence, until her own heart was beating in time with his.

It was only then, when she looked up into his eyes with an expression of such mingled innocence and knowledge, that Jason recovered himself.  What the hell was he doing?  His arms dropped limply to his side as he took a step backwards from her.  He cleared his throat self-consciously.  "You're welcome, Miss Lockhart," he said formally, glad to see he had annoyed her.  If she was angry with him, maybe she'd leave and save him the trouble of teaching his feet to obey his brain again.  They were glued to the sidewalk.

Mimi exhaled in frustration.  Every time she thought she was getting through to him the walls came back even higher than before.  "It's Mimi, remember?" she returned testily, before forcing herself to calm down.  "Anyway, thanks again for bringing Connor home."  She frowned as a sudden thought occurred to her.  "How did you know he was my brother?"

Jason shook his head, still furious with whatever cosmic entity kept throwing Mimi Lockhart in his path.  "I didn't.  I was walking through the park, when he ran into me."  His mouth turned up in a wry smirk.  "Must be a family trait or something."

To his surprise, Mimi's expression turned serious and thoughtful.  She nodded solemnly.  "There's something to that.  There's a reason why we keep running into each other.  I don't think it's sheer coincidence that you're the one who found my brother tonight.  I think there's something much deeper going on here, something powerful drawing us together.  You feel it too, don't you?"

It was hardly even a question, Jason thought as he stared into the bewitching eyes that radiated her conviction.  The thing he was trying his hardest to deny she accepted with open arms.  But he couldn't believe that.  He refused to.  Function suddenly seemed to return to his body, and he was able to take another step backward.  He laughed off her words, but it sounded forced even to his own ears.  "Look, Mimi, I'm glad I was there to help the kid.  He's a good kid.  But there's nothing going on between us.  You're not much more than a kid yourself.  So go on home to your nice, safe little family.  Trust me, if you really knew anything about me, you'd be running away as fast as you possibly could."

Mimi shook her head vehemently, fighting back tears of rage and humiliation.  "Everything you just said is pure crap, and you know it.  You're pushing me away because you're hurting and afraid.  I don't know what it is yet, but I will.  I don't give up easily, so you could just make it easy on yourself and tell me now.  What is it?  What's that pain I see in your eyes?  Tell me.  Please.  Maybe I can help."

Jason laughed again.  The bitterness in the sound almost choked him.  Mimi help him?  What a joke.  All she could do was cause him to compound his sins.  He had made a vow, and she was the temptation to break it.  But he wouldn't give in.  He forced himself to remember Belle's blue eyes and gentle touch.  Or he tried to.  They were obscured by the emerald eyes shooting rays of pity out at him, by the fresh memory of holding Mimi Lockhart in his arms.  That settled it.  He had to get away from her.  Now.  "Goodbye, Mimi," he said coldly, brutal finality in his voice.

Mimi watched him walked away, too stung to try and stop him.  She kept putting herself on the line for him, and he kept going out of his way to hurt her.  Maybe Susan was right.  Maybe she was indulging in a juvenile fantasy.  Maybe Kevin was right.  Maybe she was setting herself up for heartbreak.  She sighed miserably as he turned the corner and was lost from sight.  

It didn't matter if she told herself to listen to their lectures or not.  She was too much in love to get over it now.  Her heart was his to break as often as he chose.  Her fate was out of her hands.  It was being controlled by forces beyond her comprehension; and as long as God kept bringing him into her life, she would continue to love him.  Completely.  Unconditionally.  "Goodnight, my love," she whispered to the darkness, breathing a quiet prayer for the tortured soul who was her destiny.


End file.
